The Night of Perdition's Bullet
by Paradox Eyes
Summary: They say "The road to hell is paved with good intention." As one of our boys sadly discovers, it is also guilded with the smallest bit of gold. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

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Author's note: I will post one or two chapters to this story every day (or other day) until it is completely posted. The story is fully written, just thought it might nice to have a serial story over a period of days.

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**The Night of Perdition's Bullet**

_"Him the Almighty/Power hurl'd headlong flaming from the ethereal sky, with hideous ruin and combustion down to bottomless perdition there to dwell." John Milton _PARDISE LOSTCHAPTER 1.

"Il est magnifique! Simplement Mag - ni - fique!!" An absolute superlative work of art Henri!" Artemus Gordon's graceful right hand cut and swept through the air, emphasizing his excited praise. "Henri, you have truly exceeded all expectations. I could not be more pleased…it's just beautiful…exactly as I envisioned it! Perfect! Just perfect!"

In his left hand, a gleaming silver pistol with gold inlay in the grip hungrily caught the morning light and sent it dancing along it's polished form. Intricate engraved images swept artfully through the golden fields. On the right side grip, a small panorama of the San Francisco cityscape and a sailing ship on the Pacific waters. On the left side grip, a picture of Washington's capitol building and an image of the train "The Wanderer", it's tracks sweeping gracefully through the forefront of the design. Below these images, a tiny plaque shaped area with an inscription that read simply, "To J.W. Best Friend, Best Regards, A.G.". Intricate cursive scroll work enhanced the borders of the grip inlays.

"Oui Monsieur Gordon, this time I believe I have outdone even myself!" Henri's heavy French accent only embellished the pride in his voice.

"I tell you Henri, James is going to be speechless when I give this to him."

"And ah…when will that momentous occasion take place Monsieur?" Henri inquired.

"Today," Artemus answered brightly. "Well, actually, tonight. Today, July 2nd, is James' birthday. He'll be riding back from Sacramento as we speak. He should be arriving sometime this afternoon."

The day was already beginning to heat up as the past week had been wretchedly hot here in San Francisco. It was shaping up to be a long simmering wait for the birthday boy to get back.

"Colonel Richmond and I are taking him to dinner this evening. Then back to the train for drinks and the presentation of your "work of art"!"

Artemus handled the gun deftly as he spoke, smiling as he felt it's weight and perfect balance. James was going to be so surprised! Artemus couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he laid eyes on this gun.

It had to be almost ten months since Artemus Gordon was introduced to Henri Kovall. A gunsmith worthy of the highest praise, he had been told. For generations, Henri's family had designed, forged and created hand held weapons of enviable quality and beauty for the elite European classes. Henri, himself drawn to the making of firearms as a young man, had perfected his skills to achieve a notable level of artistic form and function. His abilities were paralleled by few. Artemus was instantly taken with the older man as he told stories of his family in the old country and their love for metallurgy and of their love for the art of weaponry. It was after one of their extensive conversations, that Artemus had decided to commission Henri to create a one of a kind pistol as a gift for James West.

Artemus, a talented sketch artist himself, had designed the images for the grips. He and Henri had discussed at length the particulars of the weapon itself. He had planned to present it as a Christmas gift, but changed his mind in favor of Jim's birthday. Now with the piece finished and Jim's birthday at hand, the timing was perfect.

Artemus and James, friends since the war, had worked together for several years now. Artemus regarded him not only as the perfect partner and friend, but had grown to think fondly of him as the younger brother he had never had. And on today, Jim's birthday, he was inclined to dote lavishly on his younger "brother". He wanted to convey how much he respected and had cherished their friendship over the years. He hoped this particular gift would speak this in volumes for a long time to come.

"And now, Monsieur Gordon, the crowning touch!" Henri held his hand aloft, caressing between his forefinger and thumb, a single gleaming bullet. Not just any bullet, but a bullet of purest gold. The morning sunlight caught on the small polished icon.

"This, my friend…is not just…a bullet. It is a moment frozen in time, a kiss from the fates, granting long life and good luck to the master of this pistol for all time to come. In my family, this is a very old and very cherished tradition. When we make the gun, we also make the first bullet. Poured in purest gold, a single bullet for the new owner to fire, to christen his weapon. It will bring him much good luck…oui? Much like when you break the bottle of champagne against the new ship to bless her journeys."

"Now you shall give this golden bullet to your friend to christen his weapon. A single first shot. Then he will be blessed with long life, much luck and good friends!" He winked at Artemis on the last word, displaying a toothy grin.

Artemus took the bullet from Henri with his long graceful fingers, allowing it to roll into the waiting cup of his palm. He smiled as he looked down at it and then closed his hand around it. Picking up the pistol once more he placed the now warmed bullet into the gun's chamber where it would bide it's time until the right moment. Hidden now, a special, precious birthday wish, silent, sleeping, waiting to be awakened by the hammer's command.

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It was still morning, but Henri insisted they enjoy a small brandy and at the same time volunteering his wife Aleza to wrap the gift. The gun now lay boxed, swaddled inside in a velvet cocoon.

"My wife is an artist herself with the trappings of foil and ribbon. You must allow her to do this for you Monsieur Gordon. You will not be disappointed!"

And so, they sipped their brandies and conversed until Aleza reappeared, now carrying a beautiful silver foil and ribbon wrapped gift. Artemus thanked her profusely. Kissing Aleza's hand, he thanked them both again and bid them adieu. He then stepped out of the shop and into the blistering heat of the July sun.

The morning was giving way to high noon as Artemus strolled down the sidewalk past various merchants shops. His eyes surveying the wares presented in the windows. He did not notice the rapidly approaching frilly mauve parasol, spread full against the sun. At the same time it blocked the view of the person who wielded it. At the last moment he turned his head and quickly hopped aside to avoid the inevitable collision.

As fate would have it, the young lady suddenly swung the parasol aside in the same direction. It smacked Artemus soundly, causing him to lose his grip on the gift he was carrying. He lunged quickly and caught it before it landed in the gutter.

"OH!…Oh dear!…I am so sorry sir! How horribly clumsy and derelict of me!" The young lady seemed genuinely mortified at the physical faux pas. She was blushing profusely and her large blue eyes seemed on the verge of repentant tears. "I do hope I didn't hurt you or your lovely package. Your wife or lady friend would never forgive either of us if you brought her a wrecked gift."

Artemus' eyes glowed as he beheld her beautiful face. He was instantly smitten. "No such danger my dear. There's no harm done and even if there was, it's a birthday gift for a gentleman friend, and he is very forgiving in the matter of foil gift wrapping."

Allow me to introduce myself. "My name is Artemus Gordon and I must say, I consider it most fortuitous that your errant parasol has allowed me the honor of meeting such a beautiful and charming young lady!"

She blushed again, this time lowering her eyes demurely. She held out her delicately gloved hand and said, "My name is Helena LaFloy. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance Mr. Gordon"

Artemus smiled his most charming smile, brown eyes sparkling. He then turned on the charm as much as he dared and mentally crossed his fingers. "Do my ears deceive me? Did you say Helen of Troy? Even if I didn't hear it, my eyes know exactly what they see, and your lovely face could indeed launch a thousand ships and more…" He then placed his free hand over his heart and gave a slight bow. "Your husband is an enviable and extraordinarily lucky man!"

"Why…thank you sir." She laughed softly. "However, I am not married."

He blinked his eyes slowly and smiled. _("Thank you!! His inner young man exclaimed to the heavens above.)_ "Then the luck is all mine dear lady," Artemus gushed! Would you consider joining me for lunch? I know a lovely little restaurant down the street a bit. I was just headed there."

"Oh…I would very much like to accept, but I am afraid I already have a luncheon engagement with some old family friends." She gave him a wistful look of disappointment.

"Well then,…perhaps…dinner?" He asked hopefully.

She smiled with encouragement. "I'd love to…but…you see…I came to San Francisco on holiday with my friend Sabina and I couldn't possibly leave her all alone at the hotel, while I go off to enjoy a dinner date."

"Sabina". Artemus let the name roll off his tongue. "What a delightful name. Very pretty indeed."

"Oh, Sabina is a delightful person! She's also so beautiful that she…uh…what's that quaint saying the cowboys use? Oh yes…she leaves me in the dust! That girl can turn every man's head simultaneously when she steps out onto the sidewalk! Anyway, I couldn't possibly leave her by herself, she doesn't know a soul here."

"Then, that settles it," Artemus said excitedly! "You and your lovely friend must join me and my partner for dinner this evening. It's his birthday and we're joining another gentleman and his wife. It's going to be a wonderful evening…dinner…dancing and I promise you that your friend Sabina will not be disappointed with my friend James. He's gentlemanly, handsome, charming and the young ladies eyes light up like diamonds when they meet him!!" He gave her his most sincere and genteel smile. "Please say that you and your lovely friend will join us!"

"Well, Mr. Gordon…"

"Call me Artemus, please."

"Well, …Artemus…it certainly is tempting…" She hesitated briefly…then smiling sweetly, she accepted. "Very well, we shall join you. But, I insist that we meet you at the restaurant. I don't believe it's proper, ladylike or wise to simply allow ourselves to picked up the hotel by two gentilmen we aren't yet acquainted with."

"Of course! I understand entirely!" Artemus complied happily. The European cuisine at this restaurant is wonderful! Just let me write down the address for you. I'm certain you and your friend Sabina will both love it! Shall we say seven o'clock?" He quickly pulled a note pad and pencil from his jacket. Then handing her the note, he made his farewell. "Until then my dear." He kissed her hand. "I shall count the minutes as an eternity until I see your fair countenance again!" He looked meaningfully into her eyes, gracing her with his warmest smile. The pink rose in her cheeks again as she happily returned his gaze. Her hand lingered in his momentarily and then smiling sweetly, she parted company from him. Artemus watched her until she disappeared from his sight, then turning with a blissful grin on his face, he headed off in search of lunch.

Helena continued on the walkway along the shops. As she passed a workman resting on a bench outside one of the stores, she caught his eye and winked deliberately, her mouth now pulled into a small sardonic smile. The man's return nod was almost imperceptible and as she passed he glanced across the street at a non nondescript cowhand loitering there. He coolly and deliberately nodded his head down once, and back up again. The cowhand reciprocated in like, then stepping off the walk, he mounted the horse tied there and cantered off down the street.

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	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2.

The hour hand had just brushed past five o'clock. Artemus Gordon checked his pocket watch once again. James was late, several hours late and he was beginning to feel a small knot of concern in his stomach. He knew Jim was to have left Sacramento almost two and a half days ago. It was more than enough time for a leisurely ride back to San Francisco. He should have been back by now. Normally Artemus would not be concerned, but within the coming week, they would be taking on an assignment to escort a very large gold shipment. There had already been trouble. Two agents initially assigned to the task had mysteriously disappeared. The body of one agent, Thomas Callery, had been found in a ravine in the territory south of Sacramento. And of the other agent, Russell Hughes, no sign or clue had been found as to his fate. The Treasury Department had devised elaborate and secretive plans for the transfer of the gold and still information had been leaked. Someone out there was determined to access the details on the transfer schedules and routes.

Jim had been sent to Sacramento nearly three weeks ago for two reasons. First and foremost, he was to testify at a trial evolving out of one of their recently completed assignments. Second he was to meet with the investigators assigned to the two missing agents. Any information he could garner would be taken into account as they made their own plans.

James West and Artemus Gordon were next up to be assigned to escort the gold transfer. James was to be briefed on the assignment on his end. Artemus had stayed behind in San Francisco, meeting regularly with Colonel Richmond and the army personnel who would also be assigned to the transfer. New schedules and alternate routes had been discussed at length.

For what was probably the twentieth time, Artemus stepped out onto the rear platform of the train. He carefully surveyed the streets nearby the rail siding for any sign of his partner. Even in this late hour of the afternoon, the streets were still bustling with activity. Suddenly his eyes caught a familiar sight. Jim's black horse appeared in the distance. Not realizing that he was holding his breath, Artie watched the animal amble closer. His brow knitted in concern. The stallion was plodding along as docilely as an old plow horse. Even on the stallion's hardest day, he was normally fractious and high strung. Artemus would have bet a handful of gold coins that the horse could never behave so placidly. If he didn't know better, he'd swear the animal had been sedated. He then studied his rider with concern. Jim sat easily in the saddle, straight and alert. He didn't appear to be injured in any way. Artie relaxed and released his breath, long and slow in relief. He then turned and reentered the varnish car to wait.

The man known as James West rode up along side of the private train. Orin Cobb, one of the engineers was outside performing routine maintenance checks. He saw West approaching. He waved to the man and walked down to the stable car door. Pushing the door open, he lowered the ramp. West reined in his horse and climbed off.

"Welcome back, Mr. West!" Orin greeted him.

"Thank you," was the only reply. The engineer gazed at him with an air of concern. He then watched a very tired looking James West lead a very tired looking horse up the ramp and into the stable car.

West surveyed the interior of the stable car. A place for everything and everything in it's place. Even if a man had never been here before, it would have been easy to figure out what went where. He put the stallion away, fed and watered him and lastly, gave him a good brushing. After stroking the stallions neck affectionately one last time, he took a deep bracing breath and strode toward the door and the varnish car.

Artemus was relaxing on the gold plush sofa when Jim entered.

"Hi ya Artie."

"James!" Artemus exclaimed happily. "Where the heck have you been? I was starting…mind you, just starting…to worry."

"Well, I'm home now mom, so quit your fretting." Jim bantered back.

"How was the trial Jim?"

"Longer than I ever thought possible. I couldn't wait to get out of that courthouse and head back here"

Artemus studied his partner. He looked exhausted and sounded on edge. "What about Callery and Hughes?" He inquired.

"Nothing. Callery had been shot and left for dead and Hughes has simply vanished." He shook his head slowly as if to say he didn't understand it.

"Artie?" Jim addressed him with a sharp edge to his voice. "Did you finish catching up on our reports while I was gone? Because seriously Artie, I'm in no mood to come back here and have to finish reports before we begin the next assignment."

Artemus, stung by Jim's tone, answered quickly. "Yes James, they're all done. We'll be taking on this gold shipment assignment with a clean slate, so relax."

_Sheesh! Jim was ornery!_ Artemis then ventured a cautious question… "Did something happen on the way back Jim?"

Jim was busy unbuckling his gun belt and removing his other weapons. "Artie, do you know how hot it is out there?! And to top it off, my horse threw a shoe and picked up a stone bruise. I had to walk on foot with him for two and a half hours until I found a ranch where we could get another shoe. I swear he did it on purpose, just to get me off his back!"

Artie's amused eyes trained on the floor but his eyebrows rode high. "I think I know the feeling." He muttered under his breath and behind his knuckles.

Jim turned around. "What did you say?"

"I said, HOW ARE YOU FEELING? You look just beat Jim."

"I'm fine, I need to rest up a bit, that's all."

"Well, don't forget," Artie spoke back, "the Colonel and his wife are joining us for dinner tonight to celebrate your birthday. Aaannnd…Artemus intoned musically…I have a surprise for you, James my boy!"

"Not now Artie. I need a bath right now."

"I was only going to tell you, that we have dates for this evening," he said smiling. Jim brightened up noticeably.

"I met this absolutely gorgeous angel named Helena and she and her friend Sabina are joining us. Helena says that Sabina is so beautiful that she herself pales in comparison! She said…"

Jim interrupted him. "Artie, we know lots of women in San Francisco. You set me up with a blind date for my birthday dinner?"

"Not just any blind date James! A very, very, VERY beautiful blind date!" He threw his most winning smile at Jim.

Jim stared blankly at him for a moment, then smiled back briefly and said, "You're a good man Artemus!" He then ducked back down the hallway out of sight.

Relieved, Artie let out a long sigh. "_That could have gone the wrong way,"_ he thought.

After Jim disappeared, Artemus headed out to the stable car. Jim's black horse whinnied long and loud when he saw Artie.

"Well, hey fella, that's quite a hello." Artie ran his hands over the black's face and neck. "What's the matter boy…huh? Weren't you two speaking to each other on the way back?"

He ran his hands down one front leg and picked up the hoof. It looked fine. He repeated the process with the two hind feet. Both were fine. He then picked up the right front hoof. The newly applied shoe held a protective plate in place. Arte let the hoof drop back into the straw. Shaking his head, spoke to the stallion.

"I just want to thank you for bringing him back home in such a state." He handed the black one of the apples he'd brought along. His sarcastic tone softened. "Next time…try doing it closer to home…huh? You get to hide out here eating apples. I have to live with him!"

He grinned and patted the stallion's neck again. After giving his own horse an apple, he headed back to change into evening attire.

Jim was obviously overtired and short tempered from the long hot ride back. Hopefully a relaxing bath would put him back to rights before dinner.

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	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3.

Artemus studied his partner as their carriage made it's way to the restaurant. Jim was uncharacteristically quiet. Oh, he answered questions readily enough, but did not volunteer any conversation or banter. There was a dullness to his eyes that Artemus had never seen before. He worried that the last couple of weeks had been harder than James was willing to let on. They had been working nonstop for months now. They were to have some time off when James was finished with the trial in Sacramento. But when Callery and Hughes had disappeared, those plans had evaporated. They had been called upon once again to do what they did best. Artemus began to regret planning this extravagant evening. He hoped his partner wasn't becoming ill, hopefully a couple of good nights rest would put the spark back in his eyes.

The carriage reached the restaurant and they got out. Helena was waiting…by herself. Artemus greeted her warmly and glancing about he asked, "Where is Sabina?"

"Oh Artemus! I am so sorry but I had no way to get in contact with you. Sabina has taken ill and could not join us. I do apologize so very sincerely on her behalf." She cast her sad eyes from Artemus to James and back again.

"How unfortunate! Nothing serious I hope?" Artemus queried.

"No, I'm sure it's not."

"Well, it's really quite alright, don't be concerned." James volunteered smiling.

"James, I'd like you to meet Miss Helena LaFloy." Artemus offered the introductions.

"Helena, please allow me to introduce my friend and associate, Mr. James West."

"How do you do Mr. West, it's a pleasure." Helena offered her hand.

"The pleasure is all mine Miss LaFloy." James smiled at her and kissed her hand. "May I say," he added, "That you are every bit as lovely as Mr. Gordon described and I will be quite happy to simply bask in the radiance of your beauty this evening!" He gazed directly into her eyes.

She blushed and turning to Artemus, stated, "Oh he is everything you said, particularly charming!"

Glancing again at James, she said, "Please, call me Helena!" Then looping a hand on each of their arms, she allowed the two gents to escort her inside where they joined the Colonel and Mrs. Richmond.

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It was a most enjoyable dinner. Artemus noticed that James came alive in Helena's presence. He was his old self again, animated, talkative, charming and attentive. Leave it to a pretty face to bring Jim around every time Artie thought.

Helena and James seemed quite taken with each other. As the dinner continued, Artemus began to experience the first pangs of mild jealousy. James was behaving a bit extreme in his attentions to Artemus' date. And Helena, the sweet thing was soaking up the attention and reciprocating with coy flirtations. As they finished their entrées, the music from the orchestra lilted in the background.

"Helena?" James asked, "Would you do me the honor of a dance before desert arrives?"

"I'd be delighted James!" Helena's eyes sparkled at him. As they rose from the table and headed off to the dance floor, Colonel Richmond cast a knowing conspiratorial glance at his wife.

He then stated aloud, "Helena, is a very alluring young woman Artemus. You say you just met her today?"

"Yes Colonel, in the shopping district. She was so very charming, I couldn't resist asking her to dinner this evening." Artemus' hardened gaze never left the dancing couple.

"It would seem," Mrs. Richmond observed, "That she can't resist Mr. West."

"Now, Elaine!" Colonel Richmond gently reproached his wife. "It's Mr. West's birthday. She is probably just trying to compensate for her friend not being able to join us for dinner."

Elaine Richmond cast an amused look at her husband. "If you say so dear."

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The couple returned from their dance. Helena sat down, her face flushed and her glittering eyes still glued to James. Artemus interrupted her gaze. "Helena, my dear,….you must allow me the honor of the next dance. Mr. West has deprived me quite enough of your company this evening." He took her hand, gazing dreamily at her.

James countered, taking her other hand. "I must say Helena, you are a lovely dancer. It was such a heavenly pleasure that I'm not sure I'm willing to give you up just yet!" He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers lightly.

"Now James, the young lady is my date this evening, lest you forget." Artemus returned somewhat tersely.

"Boys!….Boys!….Really." Helena's smiling eyes darted from one to the other. I have never had the pleasure of receiving such lovely attentions from two such handsome gentlemen at the same time before." She smiled at each of them in turn.

Artemus' eyes suddenly widened in delighted surprise as a delicate silk stockinged foot stole it's way up his trouser leg and seductively caressed his ankle. Helena was just turning her attention back his way. Her lowed eyelashes raised slowly and her eyes met his. The unspoken message there was all he could have hoped for. A glorious sensation shimmied up his spine.

She continued. "However, and it just breaks my heart to say this, but I must call it an early evening. My poor friend Sabina is all alone and not feeling well. I really should return to the hotel and spend some time with her." Her eyes turned sadly to Artemus. "You understand Artemus dear, don't you?"

"But Helena! It's still so early. We haven't had our dance yet." Artemus pouted.

"Now Artemus. You wouldn't leave James all alone for very long if he were sick and you were the only one he knew in town, …would you?"

Artemus blinked at her. "Well…of course not." He answered dryly as if he'd just licked sandpaper and he shot James a one eyed glare.

"Oh Helena, my love," Artemus implored, "You must do me the honor of joining me again tomorrow. We'll take lunch at an enchanting little café I know of, near the bay. Oh do say you'll promise me that mon cheri." He held her hand and caressed it softly.

"Oh my…I do hope to see you both again soon!" She emphasized the word "both" while engaging James' eyes. This was in no way lost on Artemus. He was now highly irritated with James.

As she started to rise, both men leapt to assist with her chair. "Please don't let me interrupt your desserts everyone. I'll just slip out and have the doorman hail a carriage for me."

Colonel and Mrs. Richmond stood up. "Helena, let me walk with you, Elaine Richmond said. I need to avail myself of the ladies room. You will excuse us gentlemen?"

"Of course dear." The Colonel answered and he bid a good evening to Miss LaFloy. James and Artemus also made their good byes in unison. As the ladies walked from the dinning room, the three gentlemen reseated themselves.

"Well, that just tears it James!" Artemus growled. "You have done nothing all evening except try to steal my date!" Artemus had been fortified by his dinner wine and James had overstepped the boundaries of their friendship this evening. Birthday be hanged! "What have you got to say for yourself?"

Colonel Richmond sipped his brandy and rolled his eyes.

"What can I say Artie? The woman obviously prefers me over you." Jim smiled playfully, sipping his own brandy.

"Oh really?…Well see here buddy…..you can just…"

"Uh…Ahem, gentlemen…please…," Colonel Richmond stopped them both and stood up as his wife approached the table.

"Feeling refreshed now dear?" He greeted her after giving both boys "the look". "Ah…and excellent timing too my dear! Our desserts approach!"

The waiter served their desserts while the Colonel attempted to direct the small talk to friendlier subjects. However, it was apparent that James was quite enjoying the sport of baiting Artemus. And Artemus was more than willing to bite.

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	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4.

As soon as their dessert was finished and the bill taken care of, Colonel Richmond turned to his wife. "Elaine dearest would you mind terribly, returning to the hotel by yourself? I want to go back to the train with West and Gordon to go over some business for tomorrow."

"Of course not dear. Try not to be too awfully late, alright?" She smiled indulgently.

He kissed her cheek, "As you wish my dear."

Elaine Richmond bid the three gentlemen a good evening and left in a hired carriage.

Colonel Richmond, West and Gordon acquired another cab for the return to the train. Richmond studied his two men as they continued their bickering while the cab made it's way along the cobblestone streets. They were his two best men, intelligent, talented, dedicated and deadly. They were as halves of an almost flawless mechanism in their work, perfectly in tune with one another. He could depend on them to launch a successful counter to almost anything the criminal elements could throw at them. They were the President's number one team. But when it came to competing over women, they could, without reason or warning, become puerile adolescents. They often competed ferociously with juvenile antics. At least they were off duty, but sometimes they played just as fiercely as they worked. It wasn't the first time he'd witnessed this, but he sincerely wished they wouldn't engage each other in this insipid behavior on the eve of such an important assignment.

"Gentlemen, as you well know, this gold shipment is the largest of it's kind to ever be transported through the territory." Richmond tried to keep their attention. "We have got to be prepared for all contingencies. I want to discuss some items with both of you this evening. Tomorrow, at my office, we will solidify the primary and back up plans with General Kierlan."

"Maybe Sabina would have been more to your liking Artie. It's hardly my fault that I seemed to catch Helena's eye. Of course she did strike me as a woman of discerning taste!" Jim took another playful poke at Artie.

Arties' dark eyes burned back at James and just as he was about to fling back a witty response, the Colonel barked at both of them. "Are you two even listening to me?! As you are aware gentlemen, we've already lost two agents previously assigned to escort this shipment. Agent Callery's dead body was found in a ravine some distance south of Sacramento. We've no clue as of yet regarding Hughes' fate. He could be dead as well or being held captive. He had access to the majority of the information on the transfer plans. If he is still alive, his time is running short. Whoever is behind this must know we will alter our plan of action."

The cab rolled to a stop along side of the train and the three disembarked. The Colonel asked the driver to wait. They entered the train. Artemis poured sherry for the three of them, glaring at James the whole time. Finally he spoke.

"James, could you have been more of a boor this evening? What the devil's gotten into you anyway? I don't mind a little friendly competition and even though it's your birthday, don't you think it was a bit much?"

"What I think Artie, is that when a woman finds me attractive and not you…that you should face it. The better man always wins." He smiled wickedly.

"The better man??…That's it James!…Ever since you rode in today, you've been grumpy, surly, querulous and now you are downright rude!! I'm willing to let this pass, only because it's your birthday and you've had a long hard day. So…I'm giving you some slack pal."

"Face it Artie, you're willing to let it pass because you benefit from my good fortune with the ladies. Beautiful women, who wouldn't have given you the time of day if I hadn't introduced them to you."

"Of all the pompous, arrogant,…!!"

"Gentlemen! That is enough!!" Colonel Richmond's eyes had nearly rolled up over his hairline twice in the last ten minutes. Obviously there would be no serious discussions this evening. The authoritative tone of his voice stopped the argument in an instant. "West! It is apparent that you are overly fatigued from the days ride back in the heat. You could definitely use a good nights rest!"

"Gordon! Get a hold of yourself and simmer down! For pity's sake…it's not like you knew the woman for very long. She was playing with the both of you!"

"Yeah Artie, settle down!" James remarked agreeably.

"You know James, the Colonel is right. You could use a good nights rest. And just so you won't have to suffer any disturbance of said rest,"….he turned away… "Colonel?" I think I'll just ride back to the hotel with you and take a room for the evening. Jim and I can sort this out in the morning."

"You can if you want to Artie, but I doubt she'll come back for you tonight." Jim gave a little smirk.

That was the final straw…the remark that raked across Artie's last nerve. What James West needed was an enormous helping of humble pie and Artemus Gordon was just the man to serve it up. James was standing in front of the sideboard, sipping his sherry, still smiling.

The Colonel's eyes rolled for the umpteenth time. He had an overwhelming desire to drag the two of them to the nearest school yard so they could roll about pummeling each other in the dust and maybe, finally, they would get this out of their systems. Artie strode toward the rear door of the varnish car. The Colonel drained the last of his sherry and was about to set the glass down when Artemus yanked open the rear door.

"Come on Colonel," he called and then quickly stepping to the side, he bent low and opened the small bureau door. He grabbed the silver foiled gift and turning abruptly, he called belligerently across the length of the room.

"Happy Birthday James! I hope you enjoy my gift as much as you enjoyed my date!"

He deftly tossed the package into the air.

Colonel Richmond stopped…starring…sherry glass suspended in his fingers. He watched the silvery package take flight across the parlor. It glittered in it's graceful arch toward it's destination. Artemus' aim as always, was flawless and true. The package's trajectory would land it smack in the middle of the small table in front of James. For one brief second, the Colonel had a premonition of a silvery carrier pigeon descending on the final leg of it's flight.

The package landed….THUD…..**BANG!!**Artie had already begun to step through the door when the crack of the gun shot ripped him back around, eyes wide, mouth agape!

"JIM/JAMES!!"Artemus and the Colonel yelled in unison.

Artie bolted across the parlor, knocking the empty sherry glass from the Colonel's hand. The sound of the shattering glass was lost.

Jim was thrown back against the sideboard, utter shock frozen in the finely chiseled features of his face. A burgeoning field of crimson spread across his ivory brocaded chest. His eyes met Arties in the breath of a second and then closed as his body went limp and slid toward the floor.

Artie caught him just as he went down. Cradling his partner in his arms he screamed "Colonel, get a doctor! Get a doctor NOW…GO!"

"JIM!…no…oh God no! …no Jim, hang on…no! …no!….please…"

He screamed at Richmond again, "Go get the doctor Colonel!!….Go!!"

But Colonel James D. Richmond was a veteran of that great and terrible war of the states. As had been James and Artemus. He had seen more than his share of soldiers shot and laid low. Fateful, fatal wounds of which there could be no mistaking. He slowly knelt down next to Artemus and gently placed his hand on the man's shoulder.

"Artemus." he said quietly.

Artie turned his eyes to the Colonel. "Please get the doctor Colonel…" His voice a hoarse whisper now. "Please…"

Richmond's voice wavered, then held. "Artemus. He's gone. The bullet struck his heart."

The coffee dark eyes, now stricken and glazed in horror turned back toward his dead partner …friend…brother. His head began to tremble and his neck bobbled as his pain clenched face drifted downward. His forehead came finally to rest, among the tussled locks of chestnut hair. His shoulders trembled and shook with the rendering of his anguish. He was as a man who's lungs could find no oxygen and who's heart would find no hope.

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	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5.

The sound of incessant pounding wove it's way into the murky swamp that had once been his mind. He struggled with consciousness, pushing aside the alcohol induced curtains of moss now hanging from his synopses.

"Gordon? …Gordon, are you in there? Open the door for pity's sake!!"

Artemus pulled himself up from the bed and stumbled across the hotel room. Leaning heavily on the door, he managed to unbolt the lock and pull it open.

"Colonel Richmond." He stared blankly at the man, not knowing what time of morning or night it was, not caring either.

"For God's sake Gordon, you look horrible! I was beginning to think you…never mind. How are you feeling? The Colonel's voice gentled down considerably.

"How do I feel? How do you think I feel? How do you think a murderer feels after…after he's killed his best friend?" He choked on the last words.

"It was an accident Artemus, a terrible, terrible accident. I was there, remember?" His comment was met with stony silence.

Richmond continued. "I stopped by the train this morning and packed a bag for you. Your black suit, shirt, shoes, necessities for…tomorrow, …for the funeral.

"Tomorrow?" Artemus repeated quietly. "What day is it?"

Richmond looked at him sadly. "Today is July 4th. The funeral is tomorrow at 10:00 am. Anyway, I didn't think you'd feel up returning to the train just yet, so I took the liberty of doing this for you.

"…Artemus?"

"Yes, …yes, of course. Thank you Colonel. You're quite right. I don't think I could bear going back there right now." He rubbed his face with his hands, trying to focus on anything so he wouldn't feel so adrift.

"You need to eat something Artemus." Richmond regarded him somberly, he doubted the man had eaten anything since… since that night. "Why don't you get yourself cleaned up, go downstairs and have some breakfast. I need to get back to the office, holiday or not. The President will be here for the funeral and I need to help oversee the security arrangements.

"The President is coming?" Artemus asked in surprise.

"Yes. He was scheduled to stop in Sacramento for a dedication today, but since he's so close, he'll be in attendance tomorrow."

Richmond opened the door to leave. "I'll stop by again later." He glanced at the solitary bottle on the nightstand, a drink or two still left in it. He walked over to it and picking it up said. "No more, alright? For Jim's sake? For the President's sake? Please?" Then taking it with him, he left the room.

Artie stared at the nightstand, then stepping back over to the bed, he sat down. He reached for the drawer. Opening it, he pulled out another bottle. _"A little hair of the dog,"_ he mused sadly. Then taking several gulping swallows, he settled back, allowing the "dog" to savage him once again.

Yesterday had been a blurry hell. The mandatory investigation to James West's death went on for endless hours. When did he arrive? What did you talk about? What did you do? Did you argue? What about? Why was the gun loaded? Why did you throw the gun? Why? Why? Over and over, the questions repeated. Asked and answered. Rephrased and re answered. Numbly he engaged them. It was as if he had stepped outside of himself. He couldn't feel anything. He heard the patterns of the words, received and interpreted them. Rearranging them, he sent back the answers. Back and forth, like the clicking of the telegraph lines.

Colonel Richmond had supported and verified everything he told them. In the end, he was released, their suspicious appetites quieted. The gun had been taken away to the lab for a thorough assessment.

Late that afternoon, Colonel Richmond had taken Artemus to his own hotel after arranging for a room for him. Artemus had only stopped downstairs long enough to order a couple of bottles of whiskey.

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As the July 4th day wore on and into evening, the sounds of the celebration festivities increased. Artemus continued to drink. His mind began to drift with the ebb and flow of jumbled memories. The firecrackers and rockets brought the wartime back. He and Jim…their first meeting…the missions they shared. The dangers, the bullets, the bayonets. The near misses and the bandages when not so lucky. The serious moments. The shared jokes, the card games and the drinking. The pretty girls. The arguments, productive and not. The long talks, the uncertain plans for futures born of wartime hopes and dreams.

_"Oh, I don't know Jim, I'll probably go back to acting. Maybe one day, the President will assign us to work together for a few years. Then one day, in an idiotic act of stupidity, I'll shoot you dead and put you in your grave, ...long before your time…," _Artemus' eyes snapped open as he jerked awake from the dream. He could hear the curtains rustling in the window between the cracks and banging of the evening's last fireworks.

He turned once again to the bottle, but hearing the Colonel's words repeat in his mind, he opted to resist for now. He rolled over and stared into the darkness, his conscience wondering aimlessly down the long halls of guilt and self recrimination. Quiet had now settled over the city streets and the darkness was complete. No more rockets red glare and no more light at the end of the tunnel.

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	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6.

Colonel Richmond straightened his cravat and picking up his umbrella, he headed for the door. Elaine had gone on ahead and would meet him at the cemetery. He stepped into the hall and taking a deep breath, he headed for Gordon's hotel room several doors down from his own.

He had stopped back briefly to check on Artemus last evening. After lightly knocking on the door and receiving no reply, he had discovered the door was unlocked. Peeking in he saw that Gordon was asleep on the bed. He decided not to disturb the man. As he turned leave, he saw the new bottle on the nightstand. He sighed heavily. The realization that one bullet could destroy two men began to weigh on him. Gordon was going to bear watching and a firm hand was going to be needed. The funeral was going to be difficult enough. He could only hope that Gordon would be in shape to deal with it.

He knocked on the door. It was opened promptly. "Morning Colonel." Artemus greeted him flatly.

Richmond thought he looked like death warmed over, but at least he was up, groomed and dressed. "Good morning Gordon, did you get a good night's sleep?"

"I slept," was the flat reply. Artemus sat down and finished pulling on his shoes.

"Alright then, let's go." The two men left the hotel together under the gray clouded sky. Richmond wistfully hoped the rain would hold off until the service was finished.

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Rayne Wilkes' carriage bounced along the San Francisco streets while she contented herself reading the latest published opinion regarding research on molds. As long as she could remember, she had been fascinated with the subject of medicine and she had thoroughly engaged herself in it's study. She had a general medical degree obtained in France but her true calling was in research. Her particular field of interest was in the medicinal qualities of some of the plants of the American southwest.

San Francisco had been her home for a long time. Widowed now three years, she came and went as she pleased, collecting plants and the healing folklore surrounding them. She often arranged trips to certain areas depending on the season of the year to collect her specimens. One of her favorite spots was on the ranch of her late husband's brother, Andrew Wilkes. His ranch, situated in the territory to the south of Sacramento, was fairly easy to travel to and she made the journey several times a year. This morning she was on her way to the shopping district to pick up a few supplies for her next trip.

Her private carriage suddenly bounced to a stop. Rayne looked up from her reading, knowing they had not yet reached their destination. They had stopped midway on the street that bisected the cemetery at the north end of town. She looked about, surprised to see such a large gathering of people. Someone well known she mused, but why had her carriage been stopped?

"Excuse me Ma'am," a somewhat burly officious looking gentleman popped his head in to speak with her. "I'm sorry, but we need to do a quick check of your carriage and person for security reasons."

"I beg your pardon?!" Rayne was a bit indignant. "What in the world are you talking about?"

"The funeral Ma'am, the President will be in attendance and we must perform security checks, it will only take a moment. I apologize for any inconvenience."

"The President of the United States?" She was incredulous as he took her gloved hand and helped her out.

He watched a dainty French shoe topped by a beautifully turned ankle find it's way down to the carriage step. His eyes traveled upward along the silk dress to a face so beautiful, he nearly forgot what he was doing here. Her eyes…they were so intense. Pale crystalline periwinkle, dark at the edges, giving them an unbelievable depth. There was a fervent spirited light that danced in them. Her abundant dark, almost black, hair only enhanced her radiance. And when she momentarily smiled….

He blinked. "Uh…yes Ma'am." He finally stammered.

_"Who's funeral could he be attending?"_ She wondered. Then she remembered, it had been all over the newspapers. A James West, a government agent on special assignment to the President had been killed by his partner in a shooting accident. She stared at the gathering crowd. She didn't see anyone who resembled the President but there were so many people.

The security official finished peeking in her handbag. "Alright then Ma'am, you're free to pass through. Thank you for your cooperation." He helped her back into the carriage.

Rayne continued to survey the crowd as the driver whipped the horse forward again. Her eyes were drawn to a lone dark haired man standing near the casket. He stood so very still, haunted dark eyes trained forward, not really speaking to anyone, not moving. She wondered if he was the partner who had done the deed. She had read in the papers that they had been friends for years. How heartbreaking to have to live out your life knowing you were responsible for the death of someone close to you. How very sad indeed she thought, as her carriage continued on it's way.

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For Artemus, the funeral was more of shadowland than reality. His body was present but his mind had not yet clearly wrapped around this thing that was happening. People drifted into his field of vision, ghostly wraiths who spoke in broken words. Sorry…tragic…sad…miss…condolences…remember…honor. He responded as needed, automatic and flat. They drifted away as quickly as they came.

Colonel Richmond kept a close eye on Artemus, not sure if he should try to snap him out of his daze or leave him to his merciful numbness. When the last of the speakers had finished and the service concluded, President Grant gazed at the remaining half of what had been his best team. Then holding his head high, he approached Gordon for a private word.

The President's appearance snapped Artemus into clarity. "Gordon," he said, "I am so sorr…"

Artemus raised his hand. "…Please don't sir. I am the one who is sorry. I am the one who should apologize to you sir." He hung his head in abject shame.

"Gordon, what happened was a tragic, unforeseen and ugly twist of fate. But it was not a purposeful act. We all know that. I am truly sorry for the grief you feel right now." He put his hand on the man's shoulder and clasped it tightly as if he could somehow transfer strength to him. "Try to remember and honor James as he was. Don't allow this event to destroy you both."

"Yes sir, thank you sir," Artemus whispered. The President released his grasp and walked away.

Artie stood staring at the casket. That terrible box, weighted with the remains of his best friend, made heavier by the tolling of his worst sin. Careless, that's what he had been. Careless and now Jim had paid the terrible price for it.

Richmond walked up quietly. Standing next to him, looking at the casket, he spoke. "Artemus, why don't you stay a moment so you can make your final goodbyes. You need to…, so you can begin to find a way to make peace with this." He cast a sad sideways glance at the man, then he turned to join the others, now leaving for the luncheon hall.

Artemus remained where he had stood the entire time. _"Make peace with this?!"_ He thought. For all his vast vocabulary; for all his eloquent orations; for his endless theorizing; for every time he bored, entertained or annoyed Jim. He had never once weighed the meaning of the term "final goodbye" from the perspective that he and he alone, would be the cause of it.

The pools rose beneath the dark eyes and pressed outward, but the guilt hardened dam held and they found no release as he uttered the only words that would come. "I can't." Abruptly he turned and walked out of the cemetery toward the inner city.

On the way back to the hotel he stopped and purchased a bottle of brandy and a fifth of bourbon. The rain was beginning to fall as he let himself into his room. He removed his black jacket. He then settled back with his liquid fellowship for another journey of retrospect and memories.

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	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7.

That afternoon, after Colonel Richmond returned to his office, he sat down at his desk and released a long sigh. There in front of him lay the report from the lab with the findings on the gun. He picked it up and read it. Short and simple, the bottom line was that the gun was flawless and sound. However, as fate would have it, a small metal filing caught in the wrong place at the wrong time had caused the firing mechanism to go off on impact. The odds were inconceivable that it could occur, but it had. A simple cleaning prior to firing would have taken care of it. The gun had also been delivered to his office. It lay wrapped in gray flannel. It's own little death shroud, Richmond thought.

_"What am I supposed to do with that?"_ He wondered. He unwrapped it and examined it. It was an extraordinary work of art. James would have loved it. He then read the inscription and sighed again. Gordon was going to have to live with that night for the rest of his life. The best thing Richmond could do now, would be to keep him busy for a while, until he could move forward with his life and his career, by force of habit, if not by desire.

He rewrapped the gun and taking it with him, he left the office. He hailed a carriage and a short time later, they arrived at the train. He entered the varnish car and opened the small bureau door where the gift had been taken from that night. He placed the bundle there, wishing that it's return could somehow reset time. He straightened up, surveying the quiet ghostly scene, the memories all too vivid. The train was as good a place as any to keep the gun for now. It was unlikely that Gordon would return there anytime soon… if ever.

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_"Hey Artie…! Yes Jim? You're a good man Artemus!" They stood watching the white pigeon, Arabella, flying toward them. Artie raised the silver pistol, aimed and pulled the trigger. The bird exploded into crimson gore and ivory brocade.  
_  
Artemus hurled himself upward in the darkness, gasping and panting out of the nightmare. He draped his legs over the edge of the bed. Rubbing his hands across his face, he then stumbled on wobbling legs to the water basin on the bureau. After splashing his face, he stared at the wretched hollow countenance in the mirror. He felt an instant loathing. _"Murderer, Killer,"_ echoed through his mind. The two stared at each other, eyes filled with abhorrence and accusation. "You didn't even have the decency to say goodbye," they accused each other.

Artemus backed away from the hurtful, grieving glare. He sat back down on the bed. He stared at the carpet below and the wall began to crack. Two tears fell, one to each shoe. He shifted, pulling himself back momentarily. He placed his hands across his mouth, as if he could hold it all back. "What have I done?" The dusky whisper seeped through between his fingers and the dam broke in it's entirety. He hung his head and the tears held back for so long were now liberated. They fell to the carpet below where they wavered on the tips of the wool fibers. Then giving themselves up, they became one with the red and gold paisley.

In the future, on occasional and unscheduled hot summer days, the carpet would be dragged forth into the fiery sunlight. There it would be beaten soundly with carpet wands. The dusty layer of time would be chased away and the colors made painfully fresh and new again.

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It was just approaching three am. Artemus pulled himself together. Well, as much as another bout with the whiskey bottle would allow. There was only one thing to be done and it couldn't wait. He slipped some coins into his pocket and carefully tucked the brandy bottle into his vest. He let himself out of his room as quietly as possible. Then heading down the back stairs to the alleyway, he managed to avoid being seen or recognized as he left. Once out on the walk, he searched until he found one of the few cabs that still roamed the streets of the city at this hour.

"Here my good man!" He hailed the driver.

The cabbie assessed his potential fare. Obviously a drunkard. "Why don't ya walk it off a bit pal?"

"Are you saying my money is no good?" Artemus pulled the gold coins from his pocket.

The cabbie eyed the cash with a quick adjustment of attitude. "Not at all my friend. Me and Joe here is happy to please! Where to?"

"The cemetery at the north end."

The cabbie blinked at him a couple of times. "Whatever you say pal. Hop in!"

When they arrived, Artemus half tumbled out of the cab. As he paid, the cabbie asked, "Do you want me to wait Mister?" He looked around at the eerie scene and he added, "Your business here, it can't take long, can it?"

"No, that's quite alright, you go. The walk back will do me good." Artemus was already heading into the grounds.

The cabbie shook his head. You met all kinds at this time of the night. "Giddy up Joe," he said and they disappeared into a haze of fog.

Up the hill he walked, above the patches of scattered fog, illuminated by moonlight. He found the place where he had stood that morning. He stared at the fresh patch of earth and found his voice.

"James… I came to say… I'm sorry… It should never have happened. I… I can't believe it did." He pulled the brandy bottle from his vest. He took a deep swallow and then one more. "This is so hard," he whispered. "Goodbye Jim… I hope we meet again sometime. Maybe… maybe you'll say you forgive me, huh? …Please …forgive me?"

He held the bottle aloft as if in one last toast. He took another swallow and turning to step away, his shoe caught. The unearthed root turned his ankle and pulled him down into the wet clay. He rolled over onto his back, staring up at the sparse silvery clouds dragging slowly across the moon and stars.

"This iss a beautiful placsh you got here Jim," he slurred softly. His right hand reached up toward the moon. As unconsciousness overtook him, his hand fell away, landing in the grass. The long slender green blades caressed his long graceful fingers, with rain and dewdrops wet.

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	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8.

"OUCH….OUWW!!"……The sharp pain in his ribs brought him to wakefulness. Dry gritty eyelids creaked open.

"Now see here Mac, we have ordinances in this city and there's no sleeping in the graveyard unless you've got your own box and your own plot! Now get up with you!" The constable continued his early morning crowing. "We've also got ordinances against public drunkenness!" He bent down and picked up the now empty brandy bottle.

The constable pulled Artemus to his feet. "What's your name sir?"

"Gordon, Artemus Gordon."

The constable's eyes widened, he looked at the fresh grave and back again at Artemus. Nodding his head toward the grave, he asked, "You're that Artemus Gordon are you?"

Grimacing, Artie glanced at the gravesite and nodded.

"Well then, I don't know if I should arrest you or just feel sorry for you, but one thing's for certain. You're coming back to the station with me."

"Thank you, but if you don't mind," Artie said, "I'd prefer to just go back to my hotel."

"Laws is laws Mister Gordon. It's down to the station you're going." He pulled him along by the arm. "Into the wagon with you, go on now."

Artie climbed in, he was covered in mud, his head was pounding, his back was killing him and he didn't even want to remember how he got here. He knew one thing though. The sun was barely up, he'd spent the night on Jim's grave and the day was off to a bad start. A really bad start.

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"RUINOUS IMBECILIC TART!!"

"How dare you speak to me in this manner!" The young woman who had called herself Helena blazed back at the man she only knew as the "Captain".

"How?! Because I hired you to do the job CORRECTLY!!," he roared. I hired you to help cause a rift between them, to cause a distraction, to separate them! Not to incite Mister Gordon to kill his partner! Now my previously simple plan to intercept that gold shipment is in ruins and it's your fault!

"MY FAULT?! Well, you can blame me all you want but I did not make Gordon throw that ridiculous loaded gun at him! Gordon did that all by himself. I wasn't even present!"

The Captain paced, angrily muttering. "All my work, the study, the preparation, the surveillance and training. All gone. Gone in a single shot. Now different agents will have to be dealt with. Well then, that's the end of that plan. We shall have to attend to a backup scenario." He inhaled deeply. "Luckily, I had the foresight to preserve our primary resource…just in case."

"Take your pay and get out!" He snarled at Helena. As she left, he turned to one of his men, the one they simply called "Hench". "Get rid of her," he growled. "Make sure there's nothing left to ponder."

He found himself alone for the moment, still carrying on the conversation with himself. "We're simply going to have to find another method of coercing cooperation. Now let me see…every man has his Achilles Heel……hmmmm…."

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After partaking of some local gossip while waiting at the station, Rayne Wilkes boarded the morning stage headed east toward Sacramento. She would later switch to a line headed south to Rims Edge and with any luck arrive there by evening tomorrow. She would stay at the hotel for the night and ride out to her brother-in-law's ranch in the morning. She thoroughly enjoyed her forays into the vast, relatively untamed lands.

Furthermore, she was determined, prepared and quite able to take care of herself. Her late husband had seen to it that she was familiar with all manner of firearms. Even he had been more than surprised at the proficiency with which she came to handle them. She could ride as well as anyone and she had a good head on her shoulders too. She could assess a situation and slip into a cool mindset that allowed her problem solving skills to take over. And…if all else failed, despite her outward beauty and sweet nature, she was possessed of a temperament that would make most people stand back and think twice.

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Artemus sat in the city jail praying… that someone would bring him a cup of coffee or a cup of hemlock. He would have happily accepted either at this point. His head continued throbbing with every heartbeat. Presently he heard footsteps and the cell door was opened. Accompanying the jailor was Colonel Richmond. The look on Richmond's face narrowed Artie's choice of morning drink to just plain poison.

The jailor spoke. "You are free to go sir. You are being released into Colonel Richmond's custody."

Artemus stood up. "Colonel, I…"

"Save it Gordon," he answered coldly. "There's a carriage waiting. Now move."

The ride to the hotel was conducted in icy silence under the granite stare of Colonel Richmond's eyes. When the carriage finally came to a stop in front of the hotel the Colonel spoke.  
"Gordon, you will go in, clean yourself up and eat something. You will then present yourself at my office precisely at ten o'clock. You will not be late."

Artemus was half out of the carriage when the Colonel added, "And if I smell one drop of liquor on you, you will be escorted the brig. Do we understand each other?"

Artemus returned the stony gaze. "Yes sir," he said quietly and stepping away, he headed inside.

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Colonel Richmond sat at his desk, reading and signing the paperwork his secretary had just brought to him. A light knock at the door brought his head up. His secretary stepped in and announced, "Mr. Gordon to see you Sir." Then stepping back and around Artemus, she left him standing there. She closed the door.

"Sit down Gordon." The Colonel's demeanor was cool and crisp. "Now then, what the devil is going on in that head of yours? I know Jim's death has hit you hard. I know you feel responsible and guilt ridden. But this drunken display has gone too far. I won't have it Gordon! What happened was an accident! Get that through your head! I will not have you embarrassing the Department! Or the President of the United States! …And what about Jim, it would tear at him to see you doing this to yourself. It's got to stop!"

"You won't have to worry about it anymore Sir." Artemus' answer came flat but steady. "I'm tendering my resignation, effective immediately."

Richmond stared at him hard. "You'll do no such thing! You're in no frame of mind to make such a decision." His voice softened now. "Thirty days Artemus…I'm putting you on restricted light duty for thirty days. If at the end of that time, you still feel the same, I won't interfere."

"You can't stop me from resigning Sir!" Artemus looked at him defiantly.

"I can't, but I'm asking you as Jim's and your friend…give it thirty days. Agreed?"

Well, what else was there to do right now? Become the town drunk? Artemus was a logical man if nothing else. He sighed. "Agreed," he answered.

"Good," Richmond replied. What he was really thinking though was, _"I just lost one of my best agents, I don't intend to lose another."_

"You are to report downstairs to the records department immediately. I'm assigning you to Jeremy Pike temporarily. Mr. Pike is waiting for you, he'll fill you in on the assignment. Good day Artemus."

Artemus left Richmond's office and headed downstairs. He opened the door to the Records Department and found Jeremy waiting for him there.

"Artemus! How are you?" Jeremy greeted him and shook his hand.

"Fine Jeremy, just fine and yourself?"

"Can't complain! I spoke with you at the funeral yesterday, but you were… Well…it was a difficult day. I'm really glad to see you though." He smiled warmly. "The Colonel's cooked up a pretty droll project for us. Let me fill you in…"

They walked into a room, containing a desk and two chairs, numerous shelves with books, boxes and files. Jeremy strolled over to the desk. "Artemus, you and I are going to be searching for the old proverbial needle in the haystack." There were piles of dossier folders on the desk. Jeremy continued, "The Colonel wants us to go through these files on various agents and government staff who knew of, or could have had access to the information regarding the accumulation and transport of this gold shipment. There's a leak of information and the good Colonel want's it found."

Artemus gazed around at the four walls and then directly at Jeremy. "You've been assigned to baby sit me, haven't you?"

Jeremy Pike met his gaze straight on. "That's why you've been selected for this assignment Artemus. Nothing get's past you."

Artie sighed with a deep huff. "And I suppose…that you are to also keep me from…uh… indulging too much?"

"Well, …Artie, that depends…"

"On what?"

"Whether or not you're planning anymore twilight visits with Jim."

Ouch! That stung. Artie stared hard into Jeremy's dark eyes. All he found there was that sparkling playfulness that so easily inhabited Jeremy Pike's expressions. It wasn't meant to offend. It was merely banter.

"No. I think Jim has had quite enough of me for awhile."

"Then I have nothing to be concerned about." Jeremy answered. "Shall we…?" Jeremy removed his jacket and tossed a file to Artemus.

For the next three days, they read, tossing names and ideas back and forth. They made notes. They theorized and still nothing concrete. Artemus was happy enough to have something to occupy his time and focus his attention on. But at night when he would return to his hotel room, he would lie on his bed staring at the ceiling. There were cracks there that meandered across the white plane…like the train tracks across the maps and years. His eyes chugged along them, through the unforgiving desert that was his heart and mind. Then the ghosts of happier times would come, like the shimmering mirages. Accusatory and haunting. He would battle them for the right to forget, if only for a little while. He engaged them with the only effective weapons at his disposal, the bottle and a glass.

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	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9.

Rayne Wilkes' stage made good time. She arrived in the evening as scheduled. The stage let it's passengers out at the small hotel. Rayne walked in. Her bags would follow.

"Miz Wilkes, so good to see you again!" Joseph, the hotel manager greeted her as he had many times previously.

"Joseph!" She responded. "How have you been? Emma and the children are well I hope?"

"Oh, they're just fine Miz Wilkes. Thank you for asking! Your usual room?"

"Yes, please Joseph." She smiled warmly. Joseph always made her feel welcome. She signed the hotel ledger, received her key and motioned the baggage handler to follow her. She headed up the stairs. Rayne did not notice the eyes that studied her every move as she checked in.

"Well now, that's a right purty thing, ain't she?" A small wiry denizen in dusty trail clothing spoke low and purposeful.

Hench who was reading the local newspaper peeked out from behind the rustling pages. "You are quite right about that Cutty. I think she just might suit our needs very well." They had just spent the last couple of days in town, observing the comings and goings of many of the local ladies. They watched Rayne disappear at the top of the stairs.

Hench approached the desk to speak with the manager. "I say my good man, …was that young woman the stage actress from Santa Fe? I'm sure I saw her when I was there last…now what was her name again?" He feigned deep thought.

"Oh no sir! You're quite mistaken! Miz Rayne Wilkes is no actress. She's a fine lady who resides in San Francisco. She comes to Rims Edge every so often to visit with her late husband's brother and his family. That would be Andrew Wilkes. His ranch is just outside of town. Miz Wilkes is a kind of scientist, …she collects wild plants…studies em for medicine is my understanding."

"You don't say," Hench answered. "She must be a real interesting woman."

"I'll say!" said Joseph. "She goes out all by herself all over the place. Rides like an Indian, isn't even scared of rattlers. But she's always a lady when you're dealing with her. A mighty fine lady!"

"Well then," Hench said. "My mistake about her being someone else. I meant no offense. Good day to you sir." He tipped his hat, turned and walked out. Cutty stood up a moment later and followed. He caught up with Hench further down the street. Hench was now twiddling a toothpick between his teeth. He looked at Cutty. "I believe we may have found our bird," he said. "I'll just do a bit more inquiring and see you back at the fort." They mounted their horses and cantered off in different directions.

Rayne woke up early. She quickly got herself packed up and got ready for the short trip to Andrew's ranch. Joseph greeted her as she came downstairs. "Good morning Miz Wilkes. I have a carriage and driver waiting for you. As soon as you've finished your breakfast and are ready, he'll take you out to the ranch.

"Thank you Joseph, you are always so attentive and kind to me when I arrive. It's such a pleasure to come here," she complimented him.

"Well Miz Wilkes, it's always an honor to have such a beautiful, quality lady patronize my establishment."

Rayne enjoyed a leisurely breakfast and then headed out for the Wilkes ranch in the hired carriage. Neither the driver nor Rayne noticed the two horsemen following at a discreet distance.

Andrew Wilkes' sister-in-law, Rayne, was always welcome at the ranch. He'd had his doubts about his late brother's choice of a wife five years ago. She had been a student at the time, so very young and far more spirited than he would have believed suitable for Morgan. After a time though, it was apparent that she really loved him and by the time he had taken ill and passed three years later, Andrew would have bet the ranch that Morgan had died one of the happiest of men. Rayne was and always would be family as far as Andrew was concerned. He'd originally had concerns about these plant gathering excursions. He would assign one of his hands to accompany her even when she insisted that it was unnecessary. Finally after a number of visits he was convinced she could take care of herself and he no longer wasted a valued cow hand on such "babysitting" detail. So it came to be, that Rayne wandered at will to and from the ranch alone. She always let someone know where she was headed and how long she expected to be…just in case.

Later that morning, Andrew Wilkes was preparing to ride out with his men to do some branding in the northern pastures. He watched his sister-in-law ready her horse for her first trip out to the southern canyons.

"Now Rayne, be careful and watch yourself," he called to her as he mounted up.

"Oh Andy, stop your worrying already! I've my two good eyes and my trusty rifle!" She grinned back at him as she climbed into the saddle. They waved at each other and then headed off in opposite directions.

The day leaned into afternoon. Rayne looked up at the bluest of skies, not a cloud in sight. Such beautiful country she thought. She was taking a break from collecting plants and writing in her journal. She took a sip from her canteen and her eyes caught movement up on the ridge. Odd, she thought.

The spyglass was trained on the young woman. "She's perfect!" The Captain stated. "You're certain she has no other connections here except the rancher?"

"I'm sure," Hench answered. "She's widowed, she lives in San Francisco and she's just visiting."

"Excellent! Let's go pay her a visit, shall we gentleman?" The three men rode back down behind the ridge. They would not enter Rayne's view again until they were a short distance from her.

Rayne was kneeling in the warm sand, carefully carving a long root from it's earthy hold. Her horse suddenly jerked it's head up, ears erect, staring. Rayne got up quickly for a look herself. Three riders were approaching. Rayne was no one's fool. This could be a chance encounter with casual passers by or it could be trouble. She mounted her horse and pulled the rifle from it's boot. She studied their approach with steely eyes.

The lead rider was a well dressed man in his fifties Rayne guessed. He sported a large handlebar mustache of salt and pepper. His face was weathered and hardened by the elements. It was his eyes though that Rayne concentrated on. They had the glint of a wolf on the hunt. The two others were obviously his subordinates.

"Good afternoon my dear. It's a lovely day isn't it?" The mustache barely moved.

Rayne replied firmly. "You are on privately owned land, Andrew Wilkes' land. If you are looking for him, just keep riding north, you'll find the ranch."

"No my dear, we've come for you." At those words, the three of them drew their guns. "Let the rifle drop to the ground dear lady. We wouldn't want any ugly accidents, now would we?"

Three pistols against one rifle. Rayne's heart was pounding hard and she knew her beautiful day had just gone bad…very bad. There wasn't much choice. She let the rifle slide from her grip.

"Now get off your horse."

Rayne studied them. "No," she answered, stalling for time. She always wore a diamond ring her late husband had given her before his passing. The prongs stood up sharp above the main stone. Keeping her hands out the men's view, she twisted the ring around and began to mar the leather of the saddle with it. 3 M..E..N, she wrote.

"Capt'n Zahlen, you want me to drag her off that horse?"

"Shut up Cutty. Now, Mrs. Wilkes, please listen to reason. Yes, I know your name. You either come along quietly, or we'll simply shoot you right here and find another woman for our purposes."

She worked the prong into the leather, C..A. "Just what is it you need from me, if I might inquire?"

The Captain smiled. "Let's just say we have a friend who could use your expert influence."

"Your friend needs a doctor?" P..T. She kept scratching.

"Yes a doctor, he could definitely use a doctor."

"Why don't you try another lie. That one's not working so well." She answered belligerently. Z..A..H.

The Captain instantly lost his patience and kicked his horse along side of hers, grabbing her arm, he dragged her from her horse. Pointing his pistol at her head, he snarled. "Get on this horse with me or die here and now." The hammer clicked. He took his boot from the stirrup and offered his hand.

She had no choice that she could discern at the moment so she complied. Once she was settled in behind him, the Captain barked orders. "Put her rifle back on the saddle. Leave the horse to wander. It must appear that she simply met with some unfortunate fate of her own doing. That journal, do you always carry it with you?"

"Yes," she answered coldly.

"Cutty pick up that journal and give it to me. It needs to disappear along with it's author. Now then, don't worry my dear Mrs. Wilkes, you have my word that no harm will come to you." Somehow she didn't find that statement very comforting.

Then the Captain slapped his reins across her horse's rump. The horse galloped down the canyon. Zahlen and his men turned their horses to the east and taking their prize with them, they all disappeared into the hilly wasteland.

Rayne behaved herself, then at least then they didn't need a reason to hogtie her nor did they blindfold her. Not too smart, she thought. She made a mental map of where they had ridden so far. When they arrived at their destination, it was one of the oddest places she had ever seen. It looked like the remnants of an old mining camp, but it also had partial walls, built like those of a fort. Nothing was complete and everything was in disrepair. To any passer by it would appear like a conglomeration of various abandoned ruins.

Captain Zahlen jumped down and turning, he helped Rayne off the horse. She took a deep breath and looked him straight in the eye. "What do you really want with me?"

He was a little taken aback by her forwardness. "Just your presence my dear. That in and of itself will be quite enough."

She could tell that the cryptic answer was all she would get for now. He took her by the arm rather ruffly and propelled her through the door of the nearest thing that looked like a building. They walked through a dusty mess of old piled boxes and assorted rusted mining equipment. He pulled on a piece of wall sconce and a door popped open in the old dark section of wall. He pushed her through it. From that point on they walked down old stairs carved from the rock into the depths of a cave like structure. They turned right and headed down a corridor lit by torches on the walls. They eventually came to a section of cells. She was shoved inside one of them and the door locked behind her. Rayne stood in total darkness now, the only sound she could hear was the banging of her own heartbeat.

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	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10.

Artemus Gordon woke up and dragged himself from his bed into another day. The early morning birdsong drifting daily into the hotel window had become downright irritating. Of course being hung over every morning probably had something to do with that. He splashed some water on his face and looked at his counterpart in the mirror. He barely knew himself anymore. His face had aged, he'd lost enough weight that his cheeks had sunken. And the eyes, they'd gone flat and dull. The thought occurred to him to find a hotel room without a mirror. As for shaving, he could just let the beard grow out. It would be preferable to having to face himself everyday anyway.

He picked up the note that had been slipped under his door last night. "Meet me, my office. 9 am. Richmond." He went through the motions of grooming and dressing for another day. Then dropping an empty whiskey bottle in the trash, he stepped out the door.

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Artemus entered Colonel Richmond's office. Richmond looked up from his desk and motioned him to take a seat. He finished sorting through the scattered papers on his desk. He was about to address his agent when a light knocking at the door stopped him. The door crept open and his secretary entered.

"Excuse me Colonel, but General Kierlan is here and would like a word with you. He says it will only take a moment if you step out Sir."

"Of course, excuse me Gordon. I'll be right back."

Artie sat looking around the office. He was tired and bored. His eyes scanned the Colonel's desk and stopped short on a file containing the name "James West" in the wording. Without hesitation, he reached for it and opened it. It was the report from the lab on the gun. He read it. He was still staring at the short paragraphs when Richmond returned.

"Ahem…uh…Gordon…that wasn't for your eyes."

Artie cast his dark eyes up to meet the Colonel's. He spoke, his voice broken and distant.

"I don't know whatever possessed me to put that bullet in the chamber. Jim was so obsessive about cleaning his guns. He would have just taken it out, cleaned the gun and reloaded it. He would have never fired an untried gun without cleaning it first." Until now, Artemus didn't think it was possible to feel any worse. He'd been wrong.

"About the gun Artemus," Richmond spoke hesitantly. "The lab returned it with the report. I didn't know what else to do with it, so I returned it to the train. It's in the small cabinet where you took it from that ni…" He let his voice trail off. Gordon's eyes looked so haunted these days. He wished he'd let the subject alone for awhile.

The gun…and that damnable gold bullet! Artemis felt a wave of nausea sweep through him just thinking about it again. It didn't matter that the gun was back on the train. He had already vowed that he was never going back there again. He changed the subject.

"Did you want to see me about another assignment Colonel?" Artie pushed the dark thoughts away. He made himself forget the gun once and for all. He relegated it's memory to a non existent void in his mind, never to be recalled again.

"I do have another assignment for you. Hopefully a rather short one. You are to travel to the town of Rims Edge and look into the disappearance of a young women named Rayne Wilkes. She was visiting her brother-in-law and his family at his ranch. She vanished while riding out to collect plant specimens. Apparently, she's some kind of research scientist."

Artemus looked at the Colonel quizzically. "I don't understand Colonel. Wouldn't it fall to the local Sheriff to organize a search for her? The Treasury Department doesn't usually take jurisdiction over people lost in the desert."

"You're quite right Gordon," the Colonel answered. "However this particular woman is the widowed sister-in-law of a man who is very close friends with the Governor. Andrew Wilkes has raised quite a noise over it and the Governor is now pulling strings to get some higher action. There is apparently some suspicion that she may have been kidnapped. All I'm asking you to do is ride down there, take a good look around and prepare a report that I can forward to the Governor. And of course if you find anything, turn it over to the local authorities and let them do their jobs. Understood? Oh, and while you're there, keep your eyes and ears open…that town is in the territory where Callery's body was found. And there's still no word on Hughes, I suspect he may be dead as well."

"Will Jeremy be coming with me?" Artemus inquired without much interest.

"No, I can't spare two agents for this right now. One is enough."

_"Great, just great,"_ Artemus thought. "_Just what I need, to speed hours alone in the saddle, looking for clues in the middle of nowhere on a bottom of the barrel assignment." _ "Is this punishment for my recent behavior?" He asked in exasperation.

Richmond scowled. "No it is not! You seem to be punishing yourself quite effectively on your own! I just need someone to do this. Quite frankly, Gordon, you're the perfect candidate. You could use a little… "airing out" shall we say?"

"Very well Sir." The answer rode on the tide of a huge sigh. "But I still plan on resigning at the end of our arrangement." He stood up, turned and headed out the door.

Richmond watched the door close. "I know that's what you plan," he said to no one in particular, "but I still hope it's not what you choose."

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Rayne felt her way around the dark cell. She discovered nothing other than it's four walls and a platform for sleeping she assumed. She eventually curled up on it and drifted off. There was nothing she could do until they came back for her anyway.

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	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11.

The sound of the keys jangling against metal brought her awake. She waited, eyes searching when finally, the door opened. "Step out here Mrs. Wilkes and be quick about it."

She didn't recognize the voice. She stepped out as directed. A different man stood in the corridor with a gun trained on her. He motioned her to start walking. They went down another corridor where she was ushered into a well furnished room.

"Captain says you can freshen up in here. There's breakfast on the table. I'll be back in a while to fetch you." He left locking the door behind him.

Rayne was glad enough to get out of that dark cell but every fiber of her being was ringing with alarm. She washed up and sat down at the table. She carefully examined the food, not trusting any of it. Finally settling on an apple and a slice of bread and butter, she ate. She sniffed and lightly tasted the coffee…no drugs that she could detect. She drank it cautiously. The cooked eggs and sides she completely ignored. Eventually the unknown man returned for her and motioning her to accompany him, they headed down yet another corridor.

They finally arrived at what appeared to be a reinforced jail cell. The entire front was barred along with a heavily barred door. Just then Cutty strolled down the corridor to join them. "Captain says he wants you up top Jake. I'll take over here." Cutty smiled luridly at Rayne. "Well purty thing, maybe you and I can get to know each other later on. But right now, you just git yer purty self in this here cell." He unlocked the door. Grabbing her by the arm he ruffly pushed her inside. The sight before her made her catch her breath.

The cell already contained and inhabitant. The man was manacled by both wrists with a short chain between them. From the short chain, a longer length ran to a ring in the wall. The man sat on the sleeping platform, his back against the wall. He'd obviously been horribly beaten. The dull pained eyes focused on the visitors. Rayne stepped back and away. She couldn't believe any of this was actually happening.

Cutty stepped forward. Sneering, he began to taunt the prisoner. "See here what we brung for ya. She's real sweet, ain't she? Course, you ain't much in any shape to 'preciate her but don't you worry none. Ol Cutty will keep her warm at night if you can't. He, he, he," Cutty snickered.

That did it. Rayne snapped to. She quickly surveyed the cell, the door and Cutty…she calculated her chances and made her choices. She ran straight at him. Cutty turned his head toward her with that sickening grin, but too late. She leaped at him and twisted herself almost horizontal, putting every once of weight she could into the heels of her boots as she slammed them into the side of his knee. The loud sharp snap of breaking bone was drowned out only by his scream of pain as he went down. Rayne hit the floor rolling and was back up on her feet in an instant. She bolted out of the cell and down the corridor.

The man in chains pulled himself forward as if he might watch her exodus. "Run girl!" He whispered weakly. "Run!"

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Artie stepped out into the morning sun. It was a bit cooler today, as if the intensity of the last few days was lifting just a bit. He hailed a carriage and directed the driver to take him to the livery where his horse was stabled now. They passed the cemetery on their way. He closed his eyes against the scenery but no amount of self imposed darkness could dim the bloody image of Jim that haunted him continually.

They arrived at the stables. He paid the driver and bid him a good day. A familiar whinny drifted on the morning air, causing him to turn away from the barns and head toward one of the grassy paddocks. Jim's black horse pressed up against the boards of the fence. The black had apparently recognized Artie's voice and now he was poised, alert, awaiting some attention.

"Hello boy, how have you been?" The black nuzzled him. Artie ran his hands over the silken head and neck. He felt the familiar lump rise again in his throat. "I'm sorry fella." His voice caught, struggling around the lump. "I'm so sorry, I never meant for it to happen. You're going to miss him terribly aren't you?" He spoke the seeds of his own hurt into the velvet ears. His hand shook as it came to rest on the stallions nose. Artemus had always carried a vague idea that the stallion might possibly meet his demise someday while engaged in some bullet laden last stand with Jim. But here he was, oblivious to what had really happened to his master. Now he awaited a new and probably less dangerous life. Artie pulled on of two apples from his pocket. The stallion eagerly took the treat, tossing his head to shoo away a fly.

Artie watched him a moment longer. He wished he could keep the black, but he was way too feisty a mount for him. He had suited James perfectly. The two of them had been of the same spirit. Artie smiled, patted the velvet nose one last time, then he headed up to the barn to find his gelding.

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Rayne darted down the shadowy halls as fast as she dared, carefully listening for anyone who might intercept her. She heard footsteps coming. She quickly hid behind some large empty boxes and held her breath as quietly as she could. They passed by in an agitated manner. She assumed that someone had heard Cutty's scream. As soon as they were out of sight, she dashed again along the way she remembered coming in. Finally, finding the stone stairs, she crept up them quickly and silently. Still listening carefully for any telling sounds, she found a matching lever and the door opened to freedom. It didn't take her long to slip outside. Heading out past a section of unfinished wall, she ran with all her ability into the wasteland of brush and rocks. She headed west and didn't even bother with one look back.

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	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12.

Artemus had been in the saddle all day. He had ridden steadily east, making good time. He had only stopped occasionally to rest and water his horse. He looked across the vast country broken only by the road. He'd passed a few settlements and homesteads, but for the most part he was alone. He wondered if Jim had ridden this very stretch on that fateful day. Had he even looked at the beauty of the place or did he spend the time out of sorts, walking on foot to find a place to re-shoe his horse? Had he felt a premonition of impending doom? Was that why he had been so petulant? It was the first time Artie's mind even allowed itself to consider Jim's part in what had happened. He'd never blame anyone but himself, he knew that, but all the same, a part of him was beginning to want more understanding of what had happened. How? Why had it all gone so wrong? The sun was hanging lower in the sky now. In a few hours he would need to find a place to camp for the night.

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Rayne was exhausted. She'd kept her eyes on a point in the mountain horizon and driven herself to head for it. She didn't allow herself the luxury of looking back continually. She stayed focused ahead, walking, trotting occasionally and resting in the heat. Maybe she should have kept one eye behind. The two horsemen had trouble at first in finding a trace of her in the dry loose sand. Hench eventually found a couple of tracks and being fairly certain they were hers, he called to his companion and they began the chase.

She knew enough to stay hidden among the rocks and brush as she made her way slowly, leaving as little sign of her passing as possible. By the late afternoon she was pretty well run out. Even her shadow now lay panting long and tired in the low sun.

"Well now, little rabbit, you certainly gave us a good chase. Pity it's over, I was starting to enjoy it!" Rayne's heart all but stopped cold when Hench stepped out in front of her from behind a cluster of boulders. To Hench, everyone who didn't work for the Captain was prey of one kind or another. He did so enjoy a good hunt.

She flopped down in the sand, pretending she was all in and done. She hung her head as if to cry. When Hench stepped up and hovered over her, she hurled a fistful of sand in his eyes. She head butted his legs, knocking him down, then she was up and running again. Except this time it was no use. The Captain now stepped out, grabbed her arm, jerked her around and finally held her at gunpoint.

Hench was roaring and furious. Clearing his smarting eyes, he came for her. He snatched her away from the Captain and pushing her down he snarled, "Get on your knees!"

_"So this is where it all ends,"_ she thought. She wondered if her late husband would be meeting her in the afterlife. It would be good to see Morgan again. She stared across the landscape one last time and closing her eyes she awaited her own execution.

The Captain spoke. "My dear Mrs. Wilkes, you have such a lovely impetuous spirit. Delightful really…just delightful! It's a shame we have to waste you on a dead man."

As she curiously considered his puzzling words, a nasty sweet smelling cloth was clasped across her nose and mouth. She had just enough time to think, "Chloroform?" Then everything went black.

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Artemus settled in for the night next to the campfire. The ride and fresh air, though exhausting, had been surprisingly good for him. He felt a little hungry as he made some coffee and took out some biscuits and jerky. Hunger wasn't something he'd noticed over the last week. He supposed the drinking had numbed that too. He listened to the night sounds of the canyon as he uncapped the whiskey bottle. A half an hour later, he was sound asleep. His gelding wandered close by, grazing happily. It was good to be out in the open country again.

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Rayne hung limp and unconscious over Hench's shoulder as he carried her down the corridor. He stopped at the barred cell and unlocked the door. Stepping inside with gun drawn, he motioned the prisoner to move to the back of the cell. The man painfully pulled himself off the stone platform and stepped back and away, the chain dragging along. He never took his eyes off the motionless form draped over Hench's shoulder. Hench dropped her on the platform non too gently, then backed out, gun still aimed at the prisoner. Keying the cell door, a multi tiered lock audibly clanked into place. Hench left.

The prisoner limped unsteadily over to where the prone form of the young woman lay. He was impressed. She'd given them a good run, at least for most of the day. She didn't appear to be injured. He could smell the faint remnant of chloroform along with her fading perfume. He sat down next to her. Although she was dressed "cowboy" style, her clothing was quality and obviously well tailored, enhancing her petite shapely figure. An expensive diamond ring graced her right hand. She possessed a beautiful face and her dark hair fell loosely about her shoulders. He reached down and pushed a stray lock away from her face, allowing the back of his fingers to gently trail down the side of her cheek. She stirred and mewed softly. He watched her eyelids flutter and finally open. He found himself gazing into what he thought were the most extraordinary eyes he'd ever seen.

Suddenly she exploded up and away from him with a half gasp, half shriek. She dived for the other side of the cell, her chest heaving in terror as she huddled against the far wall. Her eyes assessed every inch of the cell around her. He watched her take control of her sudden fear, rein it in and will it to subside. Her eyes took on a fiery hateful light.

"Stay away from me," she growled. "If you come anywhere near me, I'll break something you'll miss too!" She quickly studied his chains. She didn't think they'd reach this far.

For the first time in a painful stretch of days, a small smile tugged at his mouth. It was just possible he thought, that the Captain's boys had bitten off more than they could chew this time. She had brains and plenty of spirit to spare. He studied her a moment longer. "What's your name?" He asked.

"My name is none of your business," she spat back. She turned away from him.

"Suit yourself," he said calmly. He didn't want to push her at this point. It was best that she settle down on her own terms. He wanted her on his side when the time came. Taking a deep breath and grimacing, he sat again, sliding his back against the wall.

She glanced at him intermittently from the corner of her eye. She saw him finally close his eyes and drift off to sleep. She now studied him more closely. His face was cut and terribly bruised. The area along the right side of his nose was deeply blackened and purple. His upper lip was cut and swollen. Dried blood encrusted his hair and the days old unkempt beard growth. His eyes sat hollow and dark rimmed. His clothing, old and ragged, hung on him, giving him a thin appearance. He was pale and looked like he hadn't eaten a decent meal in a long while.

_"He must have something they want pretty bad,"_ she thought. Along with that thought she judged him to be the reason she was here. The bud of anger in her now bloomed more fully. He was probably one of them. More than likely he'd stolen something and they wanted it back. Why she was here in the cell with him was a complete mystery to her. _"Why her? What did she have to do with any of this?"_ She wanted nothing to do with him and she had no intent of being of a forgiving nature anytime soon. He likely deserved what he got.

She let out a slow breath, trying to relax and let the tension go. She was so very tired. She quietly considered her cellmate more fully now. It was amusing she thought, how under stress, one's attention could capture and fixate on the most inane detail. She continued staring at his face. Her eyelids grew heavy and she fell asleep wondering at what point in his life he acquired that small, old, almost imperceptible crescent shaped scar. The one centered just below the edge of his otherwise perfect lower lip.

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	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13.

_Carrying the shotgun he limped out of the Sheriff's Office on to the board sidewalk. Artemus looked at himself in the mirror on the post. What the hell?! Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to make him up to look like Emmet Stark. He then gazed past the mirror at his fallen assailant. Realization knifed it's way into his gut. No…please no… He stumbled and limped toward the body. Recognition gripped him. The shape of the shoulders, the man's build, the chestnut hair. He stopped, wavering in his tracks. "Oh no…oh no…"  
He looked down at the shotgun, now turned silver pistol in his hand. It fell into the dust. He dropped to his knees at his partner's side. He grasped Jim's shoulder with one hand, the other reaching…_

"Jim," he sobbed.

"Relax Artie."

"You're alright?" Artemus pulled him over. He lay dressed in his black evening suit, a pool of blood spewing across his ivory vest. The green eyes looked up playfully.

"I'm fine." He said. 

"JIM!" Artie swung upward, gasping for air, sweat pouring from his face. "Jim?"

No one answered. There was only the empty desert night and the endless starry sky. Moonlight illuminated the ghostly rock and brush shadows. He clenched his eyes shut for a moment. Grimacing, he pushed the nightmare away and reached for his saddle bag. He removed one the bottles he had brought with him. They were his constant solace now. Removing the cork, he took a long draw. The liquid fire burned all the way down. He didn't care. By the time he actually went to hell, he thought, …fiery flames would seem like old friends.

He sat awhile, bottle in hand, staring at the empty ground on the other side of the now burned out campfire. The spot where Jim had been on so many of their overland treks. He couldn't shake the eerie feelings that came even now. Jim was gone, dead, and yet it seemed like he was just off somewhere, waiting for Artie to show up. He shuddered the feeling away.

Suddenly, inexplicably, his own words cut through his mind. _"I hope you enjoy my gift as_ _much as you enjoyed my date!"_ A sickening wave crushed in on him. He scrambled to his feet and stumbling, he caught himself on a nearby boulder. He leaned over and promptly lost his biscuits. He now stood panting in his desolation. There'd be no more sleep tonight. Might as well break camp and ride on. The moonlight was so bright, it would be no problem. He whistled for his gelding. As he saddled up and packed his things, he made two decisions. One, he wasn't going back. After this assignment was over, he wasn't going back to San Francisco. Two, he wasn't going back to the Service. He didn't know if there was any place in this world where he could sequester himself from the guilt and the nightmares but one thing was for certain, the entire western U.S. Territories weren't big enough.

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The approaching footsteps woke them both. Rayne watched Hench open the cell door. The man Cutty had called Jake was with him. He looked at her and ordered her to come out. Jake leveled his gun on her.

"What now?" She snarled.

"Come along and behave yourself," Hench told her. "You try anything like you did this morning and I'll shoot both your knees out. One for Cutty, one for me. Got it?"

If he was trying to frighten her, she wasn't biting. "How is your little friend Cutty? Not so cocky now I'll warrant." She snipped at him belligerently.

Hench backhanded her, nearly knocking her off her feet. The prisoner jerked forward, as if he could intervene. Rayne rubbed her smarting face, but she knew he hadn't hit hard enough to bruise.

"Do as he says," the prisoner spoke.

Rayne shot him a frosty glare, but she softened when she saw the pleading look in his eyes. Letting out a big sigh, she did as she was told and they escorted her back to the dark cell she had first stayed in. Try as she might, she just couldn't figure out why she was here or what it had to do with the stranger being held prisoner.

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	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14.

Artemus arrived at the Wilkes ranch with enough day left to go through the motions of an investigation. Andrew Wilkes was pleased that the Governor had made good on his word to send in a federal agent. He continued speaking while Artemus studied a photo of Rayne and her late husband.

"She did not wander off and get herself lost Mr. Gordon. My men and I searched every inch of those canyons."

Artemus studied the man's concerned face. "She could have climbed up somewhere and fallen. Did you search on foot as well?"

"I'm telling you Mr. Gordon, she was taken! Come with me to the stables," Andrew led the way. They entered the tack room at the far end of the horse stalls.

Andrew pointed to a saddle in the corner. "There," he said. "That's Rayne's saddle. Manny, my stable boy takes care the tack. He treats Rayne like she's a queen. Her saddle is always oiled and spotless. Manny doesn't allow anyone else to touch it. When we found her horse, we also found this…" he pointed to the scratching on the leather pommel.

Artemus looked at the hastily scratched words. "3 MEN CAPT ZAH". He put his hand to his chin considering the message. "Any idea what captzah means?" He asked Andrew.

"I have no idea, " Andrew answered. "I'm telling you…someone took her. And "3 men" seems pretty obvious to me!"

"You didn't find any tracks?"

"Nothing definite we could follow."

"Alright then," Artemus spoke. "I'll be riding into town to ask around, see if anyone's noticed three strangers together or anything unusual."

Andrew looked at him imploringly. "Please help find her Mr. Gordon. She's family. She's as sweet a gal as you'd ever want to meet. I don't understand why anyone would want to hurt her."

Artie looked down again at the photo. She was a beauty. That in and of itself was often bad luck for a woman alone. Especially in territory like this. "I'll do my best," Artemus assured Wilkes as he mounted up and headed toward town.

The town of Rims Edge was like a lot of other towns that suddenly popped up, flourished with mining or some other industry then dissipated and ultimately would disappear. Right now it was a flourishing place. Not too large, but busy and bustling enough for people to come and go daily. Artemus checked in at the hotel. Joseph the manager and ever the welcoming committee of one, chatted freely.

"I'm visiting Andrew Wilkes," Artemus informed him. "I understand his sister-in-law, Rayne Wilkes, stays at your establishment from time to time."

"Why yes, she does! A fine lady! A fine lady indeed! Always a pleasure to have her here!" Joseph sung her praises.

"And uh…she stayed here several nights ago?" Artemus inquired.

"Why yes she did. Isn't it an awful shame? Her disappearing that way. I hope the Sheriff finds her. Andrew was pretty upset about it," Joseph said.

"When she stayed here, did you notice her speaking to anyone? Anyone you knew or…didn't know?"

"No, just the regular folks working here in the hotel. However, now that I recollect. There was kind of an odd feller asking about her. He thought she was some actress he'd seen in Santa Fe."

"And you corrected him of course?"

"Of course!"

"And you did that by telling him who she really was?"

"Yes."

"What she was doing here?"

"…Yes."

"Where she was going and might possibly be found?"

"Well…uh…yes…"

"Can you describe the man?"

"I got a big mouth, don't I?"

"You also catch on fast." Artemus replied, smiling. "Can you describe him? Was anyone with him?"

It turned out that Joseph was as keen on watching people as he was talking to them. He gave Artemus a detailed description of the tall dark haired man. Not that here was anything unusual about Hench's appearance. He easily fit in wherever he went. He was fairly non-descript. It was what Joseph added that perked Artemus' interest.

"Well then, after he walked out, it couldn't have been more then a minute, this short grizzled mean looking character got up and followed him. He had a small scar on his face, just outside his left eye. And he was wearing boots with silver conchos down the sides."

"Thank you Joseph, you've been very helpful!" Artemus smiled at him. An excellent combination of details like that should make the tall man's companion easy enough to spot.

"Hey mister, you a lawman or something?" Joseph asked Artemus.

Artemus tipped his hat as he headed toward the door. "Yes," he answered wryly. "I'm something."

He made his way to the livery to put up his horse for the night. Once there he began to inquire about anyone matching the descriptions Joseph had given him. He pulled out a few bills. Money always helped people's memories. The old man in charge eyed the bills covetously.

"Sure," he said. "I seen two men like that. One of 'em needed his horse shod. That was most of a week ago. I remember cause the big one was real quiet, didn't hardly speak. The short one did all the talking. He was kind of a sight…and them boots, well I don't reckon many folks around here would wear gussied up boots like that."

"Any idea where these two came from?" Artemus asked.

"They didn't say anything ta me, but I could hear em talking when they walked out. Sumpthin about getting back to the fort late and havin to come back in the morning. Oh… and I think I heard the name Captain Solen or sumpthin close."

"Captain Solen?"

"That's what it sounded like." He eyed the bills in Artie's hand expectantly.

"Mister, they ain't no fort around here. I figured they must be speakin of the old mining camp fort on the other side of the Devil's Teeth."

"The Devil's Teeth?" Artemus looked at him quizzically.

"It's a pass through that stretch of mountain terrain east of town. On the other side 'bout ten miles out is an old abandoned mine camp. A long time ago, folks around these parts got it in their heads that they wanted to build a fort there so they started building walls. Never finished it, just parts and pieces. You can't miss it, if'n ya ride out there straight."

"Thanks, I might just do that in the morning." Artemus handed the bills to the old man and headed back to the hotel.

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Artemus sat back against the headboard of the bed. He quickly downed another shot of whiskey. Captzah…Capt…Zah.. Sol…Captain. Captain Zahl…Solen…Zahlen. That's what she tried to scratch out. Captain Zahlen. Where had he heard that name before? Not bad, the woman had kept her herself calm enough to leave a huge clue. His mind sorted back and forth. He knew the whiskey wasn't helpful but it dulled the pain of living with himself. And he wouldn't even consider trying to sleep without it, not with the hellish nightmares. Captain Zahlen…Captain Zahlen…the dossiers! That's where he'd seen the name. One of the accountants with the Treasury Department, a young man named Billard had served under a Captain Zahlen in the war. And this Captain Zahlen had been relieved of command…for…he tried hard to remember. Some type of conspiracy… to steal confederate…gold. To steal a Confederate gold shipment! Why hadn't that popped out at him when he read the dossier? Because Billard was an exemplary employee. There was nothing to indicate that he'd had any contact with Zahlen since the war. Billard had only been a young recruit at the time. He'd barely been under Zahlen's command long enough to know the man. Or had he? Tomorrow he'd telegraph Jeremy and have him take another look at Billard's files. He downed the last of the whiskey and went to sleep.

_Artemis ran silently up the door. He put his ear to it and listened…no sound. "Jim?" He whispered loudly. "Jim, are you in there?"_

"Artie? Is that you?

"Yeah pal, you alright?"

"Yes. I thought maybe you weren't going to make it."

"What? And miss all the fun? I'll have you out in a minute."

Artemus quickly packed the putty explosives in and around the lock. Suddenly the door became a coffin lid. Artemus grasped the edges and pulled up. Jim was lying inside, holding a silver pistol across his blood soaked chest. He opened his green eyes. "Thanks Artie."

The explosives went off with a blinding light and a deafening roar.  
  
Artie sat up, wide awake now, heart pounding. The hotel room lit up with lightning as thunder cracked outside. The storm raged like fire and damnation. And with it came the rain. He got up and stood at the dark hotel window, watching it wash everything clean. If only it were that easy.

Hopefully the rain would stop by morning and he would ride out through the Devil's Teeth. He wasn't going to bother notifying the Sheriff. He no longer felt a need for backup …or self preservation for that matter.

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	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15.

The clanging of the keys once again woke Rayne. Jake opened the cell door and motioned for her to come out. She followed him again to the furnished room. "You can freshen up Miss…I'll be back in a few minutes. You try anything? I got orders to shoot." He left her and locked the door.

He returned shortly and escorted her back to the prisoner's cell. Once again she was shoved inside and the cell door locked behind her. The prisoner looked at her with concern. "Are you alright?" He asked.

"Shut up and don't speak to me," she said hatefully. Rayne walked to the far side of the cell and sat on the floor starring at the back wall. She wasn't about to cooperate with anyone in this hell hole.

"Are you always this charming?" He asked as well.

She shot him a cold glare. Just then, they heard footsteps. Hench and Jake returned with trays of food. Setting them down inside the door, they left again. The prisoner picked up a tray and limped toward her as far as the chain would allow.

"Here, you should eat. Meals aren't real regular around here." He placed the tray on the floor near her and stepped back, retrieving the other for himself.

Rayne was hungry but she was also wary. She picked up only the bread and the apple as before. She wasn't touching anything mixed or cooked. The prisoner ate while watching as Rayne sniffed and examined her food. She split the apple open, tasting it's juices tentatively. She finally ate.

She glanced at the prisoner. He could certainly use a few good meals. For a moment she almost felt sorry for him. Then she broke her silence. "You can have the rest of mine, I won't eat it. Besides, it may be drugged," she added.

"They are not that subtle with their drugs," he answered. At this, he pulled up his sleeve to reveal a long line of bruised needle tracks.

Rayne was momentarily shocked. "Ughh…that is repugnant!" She turned her face away. Finally she picked up her tray and took it over to him. "As I said, you can have mine. I guarantee you, I won't eat it." She set the tray down and moved to a spot in the middle of the floor where she sat in stony silence again.

"Thank you." He said quietly.

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Artie picked at his breakfast. It wasn't a bad breakfast, it was just that food of any kind had lost it's allure lately.

"Ahem…pardon me, but are you a Mr. Artemus Gordon?"

Artie looked up to see a beady eyed bespectacled man in a tweed suit. "Yes I am, what can I do for you?"

"I understand that you have been sent to look for Mrs. Rayne Wilkes. Is that correct?"

"Yes, but if I may ask, who are you?"

"My name is Reginald C. Jenkins, Esquire. I am an Attorney at Law, employed by the company in which Mrs. Wilkes late husband owned an a partnership interest. After his death, that interest went to Mrs. Wilkes. It is imperative that she be located at once! There is an emergency of sorts and her presence is required back in San Francisco. I have been sent here to retrieve her. So…if you would be so kind as to locate her and let her know…I would be most appreciative."

Artemus spoke. "You do understand that she's been reported missing, do you not?

"Bah!! She's most likely wandering around in the desert, digging filthy roots out of diseased dirt! Really, she can be most trying when pursuing her "hobbies". You must find her at once Mr. Gordon!"

"Mr. Jenkins, there's a considerable possibility that she's been kidnapped," Artemus corrected him.

Jenkins' face was puffing and red now. "That's preposterous! No one in their right mind would kidnap that she cat! Why…it would be tantamount to locking oneself in a stall with an unbroken horse who wants nothing more than to kick your brains out. Really Mr. Gordon! If she's gone off somewhere with anyone, it's probably just to amuse herself with some loathsome cowboy! I haven't time for such antics. Please get on with your search for her so we can leave this abominable dust patch and get back to civilization. I thank you in advance Sir." And with that, he left.

Artemus, now thoroughly amused for the first time in days, watched him leave. Apparently there were two Mrs. Wilkes. He hoped she was alive and well, so he could meet them both.

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Hench and Jake were going over details for the day when Captain Zahlen approached them. Hench addressed him. "Captain, Cutty needs a doctor. That woman messed up his leg pretty bad yesterday."

"Where is Mr. Cutty?" The Captain asked.

"He's in his bunk, down there, fourth door on the left." Hench pointed down the corridor.

The Captain strode directly to Cutty's quarters and entered. A moment later, Hench and Jake were startled by a gun shot. They ran down the corridor. The Captain stepped out.

"Mr. Cutty will be needing a burial detail." The Captain informed them.

Hench looked at him in shock. "Is there a problem Hench?" The Captain stared coldly at him. "After all, they shoot horses, don't they?"

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Rayne was growing impatient. As much as she wanted nothing to do with him, she decided she had no choice. She spoke to the prisoner.

"Wilkes." She said. "My name is Rayne Wilkes."

He looked at her with renewed interest and a slight smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you Rayne Wilkes. I'm a government agent with the Secret Service."

"My name is James West."

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	16. Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16.

Rayne's eyes flashed back at him, fiery and hateful again. "YOU… are a despicable LIAR!" She spat the words. "And you're one of them aren't you. I knew it! James West is dead. I know…I was in San Francisco when it happened. It was all over the newspapers! You know," she snarled angrily, "if you're going to steal someone's identity, you shouldn't choose someone who is so well known. Or so very, very dead!" She pulled herself around so she was no longer facing him.

He moved so quickly across the small space that he was at her before she even realized he'd gotten to his feet. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her up. "What are you talking about?" He demanded. "Tell me. Tell me what happened in San Francisco!"

"Take your hands off of me," she hissed. Her eyes met his with a cold equanimity. "You are hurting me."

As suddenly as his fury erupted, he released her. His face softened and the fire in his own eyes subsided. He backed away slowly until he was against the wall. He slid down on his haunches, looking up at her. "Tell me what you know, he stated quietly. …Please."

She sat back down, studying him. Finally she spoke. "As I said, it was all over the newspapers. There was a shooting accident on Mr. West's birthday, July 2nd I believe it was. His partner…a Mr…," She couldn't quite remember the name.

"Artemus Gordon." He spoke it for her.

"Yes…Yes, that was it. This Mr. Gordon had given his partner a gift, some sort of custom made gun, it accidentally discharged. West was killed instantly they said. My carriage passed by the cemetery the day of the funeral. There were a lot of people there and security personnel. Even the President of the United States attended."

He looked at her in utter shock. Her eyes said she spoke the truth. There was no deception there, nor in her demeanor or tone. _"What was going on?" _

"What happened to Artemus Gordon?"

"What do you mean…what happened to him? Are you asking if he was charged with murder or something?"

"Was he?"

"No, he wasn't arrested for that."

"What then?!"

"Well, there was a lot of talk in the station the day I left. I understand he took the whole business pretty hard. They found him passed out drunk on his partner's grave, the morning after the funeral. I believe he was taken into custody at that point. I can't say what happened to him, I left San Francisco that morning to come to Rims Edge."

"Artie really thinks I'm dead? He thinks he killed me?!" He said it quietly, more to himself than to her.

She watched a kaleidoscope of emotions wash over his face, but in particular she saw the concern and worry in his eyes. A man couldn't be any more honest than that. Her attitude toward him softened considerably.

She spoke again. "If you are James West, then who was the man who was killed?"

**"…His name was Cole.** Cole Afton. He was a friend of mine."

Both Rayne and James turned to see Captain Zahlen standing at the cell door. He continued speaking. "We met in Florida almost four years ago. After discovering how much we had in common, we became friends and ah…business partners. Of course his acute resemblance to Mr. West was…somewhat disturbing…to say in the least. But then…I always thought it might come in handy one day. Then one day I met an old acquaintance. A young man named Billard from my old regiment. He works for the Treasury Department now and I'm afraid he's a very talkative chap when drinking. That's how I first heard of the gold transfer. From then on, it was a simple matter of plying poor Billard from time to time and extracting more information. The dear boy did so want to impress his old Captain."

"Then of course, there was the matter of eliminating the two agents who were assigned. Callery very nearly escaped, but not very far. It only made sense to eliminate them when you and your partner were "in the neighborhood" so to speak Mr. West. How predictable that you and your partner would be next up to be assigned to the shipment. Cole was so looking forward to taking your place. Especially with the ladies. He studied you so intensely, it was quite admirable. Along with a little subsequent surgical refinement, voice lessons and a good exercise program. Voila, he became you!"

West interrupted. "It would never have succeeded. "Artemus Gordon would have spotted him."

"Oh, you are so right Mr. West, of course he would have! There are certain traits, habits, shared experiences…subtleties of a persona that are difficult or impossible to duplicate. Therefore a diversion must be created, to cause others to overlook the missing elements. Enter, Helena, and oh what a lovely diversion she was! And of course, Cole played his part to the hilt, putting your partner on the defensive, …a very effective tactic. Very distracting indeed. Your Mr. Gordon threw himself wholeheartedly into our little charade. …A little too wholeheartedly. The fool accidentally shot Cole before he could accomplish his mission. Of course Cole would have been most gratified to know President Grant attended his funeral." He chuckled nastily. "A rare irony, don't you agree, Mr. West?"

"And just what was that mission Zahlen?" Jim asked.

"Why to intercept the gold shipment. He would of course, have had to dispose of Mr. Gordon as well, then make ready for our men to relieve the Treasury Department of it's "treasure". I have great plans for that gold. Now…I still need you to tell me what you know about the transfer routes and security plans."

"Forget it Zahlen, that's never going to happen." Jim's face hardened, along with his resolve.

"Well, that's where your very beautiful companion comes in."

Rayne came to attention with that remark and stood up. "Now wait just a minute," she said. "I don't know anything about any gold shipment. I don't know you and I certainly don't know him! She nodded toward James. What could you possibly want with me?"

"My dear Mrs. Wilkes, you see, Mr. West is a man of considerable gallantry and moral fortitude. He would never allow anyone to suffer in his place. Especially a lovely innocent bystander, such as yourself. It has nothing to do with who you are, but the fact that you were…how shall we say…available? You were in the right place at the right time."

"Now then, this is how it will be. I have business that will occupy me for a few hours. When I get back to you Mr. West, you are going to tell me everything I need to know. Or…I will remove Mrs. Wilkes. Then I will return her to you…one…piece…at a time. I think we might start with her lovely fingers. What do you think of that? I suggest that you give it a lot of thought. Then he turned and left.

Rayne turned her appalled eyes on James. She brusquely shrilled at him. "Give him the information on the damn gold shipment!!"

Jim feigned shock at her language but his eyes glittered with amusement. "Are you always this eloquent?" He inquired seriously.

Glaring at him she barked, "Yes!…Yes…when I've been kidnapped, held hostage, chloroformed and put under threat of dismemberment, I have a tendency to become this eloquent!! GIVE HIM THE INFORMATION!!"

"No."

"Noooo?! Are you going to just let him hack me up in pieces?! She was furious now.

"No. I won't let him harm you."

"Well pardon me if I don't take much comfort from that statement, since it is coming from a man who is CHAINED TO THE WALL!!"

"Jim smiled calmly at her. "You wouldn't happen to have a hairpin in that lovely mane of yours?"

She was instantly taken aback by the off handed compliment.

"My hair is a mess," she corrected him.

He turned on his best James West charm. "Your hair is beautiful," he said. "Your eyes are beautiful, your lips, your face,…your neck. I could go on," he offered, eyes sparkling.

She stood utterly stunned now. She crossed her arms and turned her head to the wall, looking through it as if there was an unseen audience there. "Oh my God," she said. "The man is standing on the precipice of death…and now he decides to be charming!"

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Artemus headed down the street to the telegraph office. He would send wires to Jeremy Pike and Colonel Richmond. Maybe there was a connection between Zahlen and Billard, maybe not. He'd wait a while for a reply, then get his horse and head out for the ruins beyond the Devil's Teeth.

w-w-w-w-w

Rayne, having regained her composure, turned back toward James West. "No… I don't have a hairpin, but…" At this point, she sat back down on the earthy floor and pulled off her right boot. She reached inside the lining and extracted a small steel crochet hook. A no. 7 to be exact. She held it up in the light.

"Will this do?" She asked. "I use it to loosen up delicate roots."

Jim gave her a lightly amazed look and reached for the instrument. He was beginning to really like her.

She pulled her boot back on and stood up again, watching him. He deftly inserted the hook into the manacle locks and picked them open. He handed the hook back to her.

"Perfect," he said smiling. He looked past the hook and let his eyes trail over her. "Just perfect!"

She dropped her chin and blushed.

Smiling, she looked back up at him. "What now?" She asked.

"Well, Artemus is obviously not looking for me. We're going to have to find a way to get ourselves out of this place. And that's going to take a little trickery of some sort. We need someone to come in here so we can get one of their weapons. That's not going to be easy. They're pretty suspicious of both of us. What about your husband? Will he have any idea of where to look for you?"

"I think not," she answered soberly. "He's been dead for three years."

"I'm sorry," he said (he wasn't that sorry). "I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't, we haven't exactly gotten to know one another. I suppose I should mention that I'm a doctor. I don't do general practice, I research plants for their medicinal qualities." Chuckling at him, she said, "You could use a good antiseptic." She walked up to him and taking his face gently in her hands, she turned his head from side to side, giving him a serious looking over.

"Is that a bullet graze?!"

"I was riding back to San Francisco from Sacramento. The first evening, someone tried to kill me. The bullet grazed my head. I guess they changed their minds when they discovered I was still alive. I woke up here and it's been fun and games ever since."

She pulled his open shirt aside. His ribs were dark with bruises. "Are your ribs broken?"

"I don't think so."

"Well, you certainly are a mess. Apparently you take a lot of killing!" She shook her head and gave him a wry smile.

She studied his face more intently now. "I was just wondering," she said as she stared at him.

"Yes?" He answered.

"I was just wondering what you look like underneath all those cuts and bruises, and that horrid beard growth. "You do have gorgeous eyes!" She continued blatantly. "And your smile isn't too bad… it has potential… maybe once the swelling goes down!"

It was his turn to gape at her momentarily. "Uh… thank you… I think."

"You're welcome!" She grinned coquettishly.

He went and sat down, pulling a small object out of hiding by the platform.

"What have you got there?" She asked.

"A piece of metal I found in a crack over in the brick wall."

"May I?" She asked, holding her hand out. It was a piece of steel about three inches long and about three quarters of an inch wide. He'd obviously been working on it a while. It was honed as sharp as a surgical instrument on one side.

"A prior resident used it to loosen the bricks over in the corner," he told her.

"The bricks are loose?" She asked, walking toward them.

"Forget it Rayne, there's nothing but solid wall behind them." He rubbed a hand over his sore face.

She pulled a brick out of the wall and walked back to him. Holding the would be scalpel until it caught the light and hefting the brick in her other hand, she looked him straight in the eye and said. "James, I have an idea! How about I have a go at murdering you? They'll never see that coming!"

Then she smiled the most charmingly wicked, beautiful smile he'd ever seen. And for the first time in a long time, James West seriously considered the dangers … of falling in love.

His eyebrows rose and his breathing stopped. "What did you have in mind?" He asked as casually as he could.

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	17. Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17.

Artemus was tired of waiting for a reply. He decided that it was time to go. He stopped at the saloon and replenished his supply of whiskey, then headed over to the livery.

"Devils Teeth," he thought. How appropriate. He felt like he'd been chewed up and spit out by the devil every day now for over a week. Suddenly he shivered in the warm morning sun. He had a strange feeling about going out there. It wasn't bad or good, just nagging and odd. He shrugged it off. All this thinking about hell and devil's teeth. It was enough to make a depressed man jumpy.

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"Ouch!"

"Stop whining!"

"I am not whining, that hurt!" Jim was indignant.

"Oww!" (In spite of the pain, he was enjoying the attention.)

"Did you whine the entire time they were beating you?"

He shot her a withering look. "You enjoy torturing men, don't you?"

Her amused eyes sparkled as she smiled. "It's a recently acquired taste! There! All done! I didn't think it possible, but you look even worse now, positively ghoulish! Small scalp wounds bleed magnificently!" She admired her handiwork.

She reached up again with the sharpened metal and cut off a few sprigs of his hair. Then holding up one end of the brick, she carefully daubed one corner of it in the blood that was running freely down his face from the two small cuts inside his hairline. She delicately applied the tufts of hair in the stickiness.

Jim pulled his face back and grimaced at her.

"What?!" She exclaimed. "I'm obsessive about attention to detail!"

Chuckling, he looked into her beautiful eyes. "Are you certain you've never met my partner?"

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Jake picked up the tray with bread and two bowls of stew. He wished the Captain would finish with these two. He was getting tired of babysitting duty. Hopefully they'd get what they needed from West soon. Then they could dispose of him. As for the woman, maybe they could have some fun with her first. She sure was full of it and pretty to boot.

He headed down the stairs and walked along the cell corridor. When he reached the prisoner's cell, the tray dropped from his hands. The clattering noise only punctuated his shock. He couldn't believe his eyes. West was lying face down, blood dripping from his head onto the floor. His hands, manacles and the chain lay under him. Next to his limp body lay a bloodied brick, tufts of hair stuck to the gore covered corner of it.

Jake grabbed a hold of the door, unlocking it and wrenching it open while he yelled. "You crazy lunatic witch! What the heck did you do?!"

Rayne stood behind the body, eyes cold and watching. She laughed a low and nasty laugh. "I did what your prissy Captain wasn't man enough to do. I killed him. Now let me out of this insane asylum."

"Come here," he ordered her.

She backed away from the bloodied "corpse", deeper into the cell.

"Come here I told you!" Jake stepped toward her, pulling his gun out.

She now stood against the back wall, starring dumbly at him. He stepped over West and went after her. He never saw or heard the body move and stand up silently behind him. The last thing he would remember was… how prettily and seductively she then smiled.

Jim picked up Jake's gun and grabbed Rayne's wrist. "Let's go," he said. They ran down the corridor to where it forked.

"This way!" Rayne pulled him. They continued running when suddenly one of the Captain's men came around a corner. He instantly pulled his gun, Jim had no choice but to fire. The sound would certainly bring more men. Rayne ran to the fallen body.

"Rayne! No!" Jim hissed.

"We need another gun!" She called back. She quickly rolled the body over and grabbed the weapon from underneath him. It was covered in blood. "Ughh… James if we survive this, I am going to insist that you take me out to a decent dinner to make up for this when we get back!"

He grinned at her. "I'll take you to a new French restaurant in downtown San Francisco, near the bay!"

"I'd be honored!" She answered sweetly, as she wiped the gore off the gun.

They were nearly to the stairs when several men came through the door at the top. Jim and Rayne split up and hid on opposite sides of the corridor. The men passed through but then one more came. He stopped, listening carefully. Gun drawn, he turned toward the boxes that hid Jim. Rayne calmly stepped up behind him and cracked him in the back of the head with the butt of her pistol. He dropped to the floor. Jim stuck his head out, looking at her incredulously.

"I've been man-handled way too much lately." She said as a matter of fact. "I think I'm getting a little testy."

Jim stepped out. "I think I'll keep that in mind." He whispered warily. "Come on!"

They made their way up the stairs and through the door in the old decrepit section of the building. Jim stood in the shadows, surveying the yard outside. A saddled horse stood tethered not too far away, along one the sections of wall. He glanced quickly around one more time and pulling Rayne with him, they headed out on a mad dash for the mount.

Jim helped Rayne into the saddle. She spoke low. "New French restaurant, eh? What's it called?"

"L'Oiseau Rouge," Jim answered. He climbed up, swinging his leg over the horse's neck, he settled into the saddle in front of her. She wrapped her arms around him as he quickly reined the horse around toward the opening in the wall.

"You will take a bath first?" She chuckled softly.

"Rayne, stop making me smile," Jim growled. "My face hurts!" (He grinned anyway.)

The spurred horse lunged into a full gallop out into the rocky sage covered land. Rayne nestled her chin on his should. "Awww, you poor cowboy." She purred.

At least they had a bit of a head start. Rayne glanced behind. She just caught the flurry of activity through the opening in the walls, men running, horses being brought around.

Jim guided their horse down a slope to flatter ground. Rayne spoke to him. "Head for that mountain ridge to the west. There's a pass through it called the Devil's Teeth. If we can make it that far, we might have a chance!" He urged the animal in the direction she said. "The town of Rims Edge is not too far on the other side."

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Captain Zahlen was raging. "Incompetent fools! Go after them. Kill them both!"

Jake hauled himself up, rubbing his head. His vision still hadn't cleared but he wasn't staying here with the Captain this mad. He headed out with Hench and the others. The Captain never stopped ranting for a minute as he followed them. The horses were hurriedly brought around and they mounted up and galloped out in pursuit of the escapees.

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Jim and Rayne finally reached the small foothills beneath the towering jagged rocks. They found the trail that led to the pass up through the "teeth" toward the crest. As they reached the upper section of the pass, James stopped and surveyed the area, taking stock of their situation and their dwindling chances of staying ahead of the pursuing riders. He looked back down the way they had just come. The riders were coming up the last of the sloping hills. It wouldn't be long now and he made the only choice he could. He slid down from the saddle and looked up at Rayne.

"Go!" He barked brusquely. "Ride as fast as you can and don't stop until you reach Rims Edge. You can send the sheriff back for me. I can hold them off in this pass for a good amount of time." He grabbed the second gun from her belt. "Now go!" He turned to walk back.

Rayne leapt down from the saddle. "Are you insane?! That's a death warrant! I won't leave you here. I won't!"

"You have to Rayne. We can't outrun them. Besides… this is what I do… saving damsels in distress is my specialty." Jim joked quietly, his gaze meeting her fierce and worried eyes.

She studied his face, reluctantly nodding her understanding of who and what he was. She leaned into him and kissed him softly. "Just for luck," she whispered.

He cupped the side of her face in his hand, his thumb trailing gently across her lips. Then pulling her close he kissed her passionately in return.

"Don't forget," he said, releasing her, "dinner in San Francisco!" He winked and smiled, dimples hidden beneath the bloody grime and beard growth.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world." She answered back fearfully, while forcing a smile.

She climbed back up in the saddle and with a slap of the reins, the big bay horse scrambled up and over the crest, leaving nothing of her behind but a dusty ghost.

Jim's heart kicked at him hard, demanding that he admit to himself how strong his feelings for her were. He forced those feelings down and away. Then swinging the two guns up with a quick deft motion, both hammers clicked soundly into readiness. Face set hard and eyes like ice, he turned toward the business at hand with a clear mind. He wouldn't have long to wait. The riders approached with a vengeance.

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	18. Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18.

Rayne rode with her heart in her throat. She didn't know how soon she'd get to Rims Edge, but she was terrified that it wouldn't be soon enough. Movement in the distance caught her eye. A rider. She reined the bay to a stop. The horse was blowing hard and she was panting as well. She studied the distant figure. Friend or foe? One of Zahlen's men or possible rescuer? She let her intuition decide and then rode like a mad woman toward the stranger.

Artemus Gordon looked ahead to see a horse and rider coming toward him at full gallop. He could see dark hair flying and a petite figure astride the horse. The young woman finally reached him. He recognized her immediately as she reined in her horse next to him. She was wild eyed and extremely agitated.

Artemus pulled out his identification and flashed it for her. She was too upset to notice the name.

"I'm a government agent," Artemus spoke. "I was sent to look for you. Are you alright Mrs. Wilkes? Are you hurt?"

"No. I'm fine, but you've got to help my friend!"

Just then gun shots began to echo in the distance. They both turned their heads toward the mountain ridge.

"Please… please, you've got help him!" Rayne implored. "We were held hostage by some crazy man named Zahlen. My friend is trapped in the pass. They'll kill him! Please help him! He's a government agent too!"

_Hughes is still alive?!_ Artemus thought incredulously. "Can you make it back to town alright?" He asked.

"Yes, …yes I'm fine," she answered. "I'll send the sheriff as soon as I get there!"

"Good. I'm going after your friend." Artemus kicked his horse into a gallop and headed in the direction of the gunfire.

Rayne watched him only for a second, then she whipped her horse toward town.

When she arrived at the sheriff's office, she was in quite a state. Wind blown and red faced, she pleaded with the sheriff to round up some men and ride out to the pass immediately. He sent one of his deputies to get some men together. He handed Rayne a glass of water and tried to calm her with assurances.

Just then the office door opened and Jenkins strode in. "Rayne," he barked. For heaven's sake! Where have you been? You need to return to San Francisco immediately!"

"Jenkins?! What on earth are you doing here?"

"I've been waiting for you. There are problems to be addressed with the business and you need to return home now!"

"No!" She blazed back at him. "I can't, nor will I leave now!"

Jenkins was undeterred. "The stage leaves in twenty minutes, you WILL be on it! Need I remind you that your late husband, Morgan Wilkes, would never have been so neglectful of his duties? You should have never left! You knew there unsettled issues to be addressed."

Morgan's business. It was her only weakness. When Morgan died, she had promised him that she would manage his business as he intended. She meant her vow then and she still held to it now. Jenkins use of the guilt tactic was the only thing that could have made her budge in this moment. She turned to the sheriff.

"You'll send someone to inform Andrew that I'm alright?"

"I will Mrs. Wilkes, I'll send someone out to the ranch as soon as possible."

"Sheriff, may I have a sheet of paper and an envelope please?"

"Of course." He pulled the paper from his desk drawer.

Rayne wrote quickly while she spoke. "Give this note to Mr. West when he returns. Please explain to him to why I left so suddenly. And if he doesn't surv… if he doesn't make it back, just tear it up or burn it. It won't matter anymore at that point. She handed him the sealed envelope.

"I'll do that Mrs. Wilkes, you have my word."

"Well then, goodbye Sheriff and thank you."

Jenkins escorted her to the stagecoach. She reluctantly boarded, casting a wistful look out over the eastern horizon. She hoped and prayed that he'd be alright.

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Artemus Gordon rode his horse through the rocky entrance to the pass. The gunfire up ahead was sporadic but had not ceased. His horse crested the high point of the trail. Looking down the other side he could see the man he assumed was Hughes exchanging gunfire with several men lower on the trail. He rode part way down and dismounted. Pulling his gun, he continued down the trail to join the man, but movement caught his eye high up in the rocks above Hughes. A well dressed man, sporting a handlebar mustache crept among the upper rocks to gain a vantage point. He stopped, taking careful aim at the man below. He fired.

Artemus could see that Hughes had been hit. He quickly took aim and fired at the man above. Zahlen fell to the rocks below and lay still.

Jim ignored the torn flesh wound in his left forearm and swung around in time to see Zahlen stricken from his rocky perch. He instantly recognized his altruistic deliverer. He'd have recognized that silhouette and it's movements anywhere. ARTIE!! …Brilliant deductive Artemus! He should have guessed that his partner would ultimately figure it all out! Jim grinned, he didn't think he'd ever been so happy to see him.

Shots rang out from below and he turned once more to return fire. After another short exchange, they must have realized that Zahlen was no longer with them. They gave up and ran back to their horses. Mounting up, their remaining number fled.

Artie pattered down the rest of the distance, coming up behind the man he'd come to help. He watched him stand up slowly, cradling his left arm. The man then turned around to face him.

"Artie! Where the devil have you been?! What took you so long?! Jim grinned happily.

The unforeseen and totally unexpected wave of shock hit Artemus harder than any punch the man could have possibly thrown. And yet, he still stood upright, frozen in his boots. He momentarily wondered if being hit by lightning and having your mind utterly shatter felt the same. For although, he was fairly certain he had not been hit by lightning, (There not being a cloud in the sky.) he was just as certain that he'd finally and completely lost his mind. There… standing in front of him… looking freshly divested of the grave, stood the living ghost of James West. The apparition's face was gaunt, bruised, cut and swollen. The hair and beard growth matted with blood and grime. And yet the eyes were unmistakable and the voice all too familiar.

"Artie?" The man/ghost addressed him. "Are you alright?"

Artemus brought his gun up, leveled it and cocked the hammer. He was not willing to be deceived by foolish emotion when he had so clearly and painfully carried the sickening truth with him for over a week. "Who the hell are **you**?!" He demanded.

Jim's brow furrowed deeply. "Artie? …Put the gun down. …It's me. It's Jim."

"NO! …You're not real. I know. …I murdered Jim West."

Jim pulled his face back in disbelief. Then it took on a hard and worried quality. He'd never seen Artemus like this before. Frankly, it was a little unnerving.

"Artie… the man who died… he was a ringer… another ringer. And… you certainly did NOT murder me. Now put the gun down. Artie?… Say something! …Talk to me!"

Artemus' mouth hung open. _A ringer? Another ringer?!_ "No…no… I would have known." He stood shaking his head. He sorted through the memories, sifting for clues, mumbling to himself. "I'd have known …known …if …no, …Jim was in such a bad mood, …it was all so... It threw me off… the dinner, …Helena, Jim, …sweet Helena." _"Whatever happened to her anyway? …She didn't even come to the funeral." _"She …she …good lord! She was part of it, …part of the deception, …the distraction!" His now wordless tongue twitched like a fish in dry sand. Suddenly it found water again.

He looked at Jim. "You're bleeding." He said numbly.

"Relax Artie. I'm fine." (_"Relax Artie. I'm fine.")_

"Sweet Aunt Maude!" His legs folded under him and he sat down hard in the hot dust. "Is it… is it really you Jim?" His hand lay limply over one propped up knee, the gun hanging loosely.

"Yeah Artie, it is. You OK?" Jim took a couple of steps toward him.

"Oh sure…" He waved his free hand nonchalantly and then dragged his hand through his wavy hair while he blew out a big sigh. "I should be used to this by now," he muttered to himself.

He hauled himself back to his feet. "That's bleeding bad Jim, you better let me have a look at it."

Jim allowed himself to be sat down while Artie tore open the bloody sleeve and bound the wound tightly with his kerchief. He quietly accepted the motherly fussing, knowing it would help settle his friend.

When Artie was finished, he straightened up. "Come on Jim, let's get you back to town and find a doctor to look at that. We'll have the sheriff send someone out for the bodies."

Artie's flat demeanor and dulled affect was perplexing. He just turned and quietly walked away. Jim got up and followed him back up the trail.

"Are you sure you're alright Artie?" He called after him.

Artemus stopped walking. He turned around. The stupefying state of shock had begun to dissipate. His right hand came up shakily and wrapped across his mouth. Eyes welling, he suddenly walked back the short distance and pulled his younger "brother" into an embrace, clasping him firmly on the back.

Then backing off, he spoke in exasperation. "One of these days, James, your funerals are going to be the death of me! You know that, don't you?!" He smiled in relief now and shook a finger in Jim's face. "I'm fine now, BUT… I'm going to tell you something "Buddy". You are NEVER going ANYWHERE ALONE AGAIN!! I leave you alone for five minutes and you're in trouble already. You go off for a few weeks and look what happens!! You get yourself kidnapped! …Killed by me! …Buried! …Beat up! …Cut up! …SHOT UP! …Tortured! He looked Jim up and down.

"Don't forget drugged." Jim smiled and interjected helpfully.

Artie shook his head, turned and continued up the trail still ranting. "Then you come back from the grave. You look like you haven't eaten in weeks! He turned around again. "James, you look so bad, your own mother wouldn't recognize you!!

When they reached the horse, Artie climbed up into the saddle. "And …and …you smell like a pack of wet coyotes!! You're riding in back! …Get up here!" Grinning, he reached down and helped Jim up. Jim settled in behind him.

"ARTIE!! There are three bottles of whiskey in your saddlebag!"

Silence.

"Artie?"

"…Yes, Jim?"

"I, ah… missed you too."

Artemus turned to look at his friend. He studied the damaged face so colorfully arrayed in bruises. He shook his slowly, smiling, "I'll just bet you DID!!"

They both burst out laughing.

Then Artie kicked his horse up the trail and they disappeared over the crest, the sound of their laughter still ringing in the canyon walls.

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	19. Chapter 19

EPILOGUE

Of course as it turned out, Rayne was long gone by the time James and Artemus returned to Rims Edge. Jim was disappointed, but the note she left him, gave him one last grin.

They had contacted Colonel Richmond and apprised him of the situation. (Much to his considerable relief.) In turn, he had the train sent to Stockton for them to catch up to. With it came a new and unanticipated assignment. They were immediately dispatched on escort with a visiting dignitary traveling to New Orleans. The train's journey was uneventful as was expected, giving Jim a chance to recover from the abuse at Zahlen's hands.

It had been two weeks since Jim had met with Artie in that rocky pass. The bruises were pretty much gone now, only a shadow remained along the bridge of his nose.

Artemus was still pretty touchy about the whole business. It had been days before he had allowed Jim to wander out of his sight. On occasion he would still yelp in his sleep. He still wouldn't discuss any of it at length and dinner wine was the only libation he'd taken since they returned to the train.

Jim had read the copy of the report that Richmond had sent along with the train. He had a vague curiosity about what had become the "gun", but Artie never mentioned it and Jim didn't press him. Artemus would open up in his own good time. Jim speculated that he perhaps had gotten rid of it, maybe even thrown it in the bay in one of his less sober moments. It didn't matter. He was just happy to be home and get things back to normal.

Today the train was in route back to San Francisco. Jim was looking forward to catching up with Rayne. He relaxed on the plush sofa, reading the newspaper and thinking of her. He smiled, remembering her note.

Artemus was sitting at the table, reading one of his enumerable books and researching a new compound. Suddenly Jim spoke up.

"Artie? When we were in San Francisco three months ago, didn't we bring a menu back from that new restaurant down by the bay. L'Oiseau Rouge?"

"Huh? …What Jim? …Oh. Yes we did." Artie glanced over at his partner. Jim was smiling distractedly.

"You taking Rayne there Jim?"

"Yes, I don't think she's been there yet."

Artie grinned wickedly. "You know Jim. Every time that young woman gets mentioned, your face lights up like I've never seen before. Methinks that this one just might be a little ah…special? Maybe very special?"

Jim shot him a long suffering, squint-eyed glare. "The MENUE Artie… Where is it?"

"Oh… it's around here somewhere… Just thought I'd mention it James!" Artie continued grinning. He had thoroughly enjoyed the effect that little lady had on Jim. Apparently the beautiful and irrepressible Rayne Wilkes had sashayed up one side of his partners heart and down the other. Then she just rode off into the sunset, leaving him standing in the dust. For nearly two weeks now, Jim had chaffed like a school boy to get back to San Francisco. Artemus was loving every minute of it.

Artemus Gordon was very good at multi-tasking. He could torment his partner, absorb research data and look for a lost menu all at the same time. He rose from the table, book in hand, meandering through the varnish car reading and talking aloud to himself. "…the adhesive qualities of the additive elements, combined with… Now where did I put… Oh yes…"

He strode toward the back door. Placing the book on top of the small bureau next to the doorway, he squatted down, pulling the bureau door open. "She's going to love that restaurant Jim! The cuisine there is absolutely sup…"

His sudden silence caused Jim to turn around. Artemus on bended knee, stared silently into the bureau. Jim almost called out to ask him if he was alright but stopped himself. He'd asked that question too many times in the last two weeks and it was beginning to annoy his partner.

Artie pulled a gray woolen bundle out of the bureau. From the look on his face, Jim instantly guessed what it contained. He quickly turned back to his newspaper so Artie wouldn't know he'd been watching. Still looking at the newspaper. Jim casually started conversing.

"You know Artie, I've been thinking about what happened here on the train. Actually, when you look back on it… it was pretty fortunate that my "ringer" met his demise that evening."

"Wha… what do you mean Jim?" Artie pulled himself together and answered.

"I mean, think about it. If he hadn't been shot, you and he would have accompanied the gold shipment. He probably would have killed you. The heist would have taken place. Captain Zahlen would have killed me… and believe me… I was in no condition to do anything about it. All in all, it was pretty lucky that it happened the way it did. Plus, I did get to meet Rayne!"

He turned around smiling innocently. "What ya got there Artie?"

"I… well… I… this is um… Jim…" Artie took a deep breath and stepped around the sofa to face Jim. "This is… he swallowed hard. This is your birthday gift Jim."

Jim studied his partner's face for a minute. "You don't have to do this Artie."

"No… no, it's alright. I did have it made for you. I want you to have it. Happy Birthday Jim!"

Jim stood up as Artie held the bundle out to him. Jim looked down at the gray woolen parcel, then tilted his head up sideways. One eyebrow perched high as one playful gray emerald orb met Arties eyes.

"It's not loaded, is it?!"

Artemus nearly choked! "Nooo!" He laughed.

"Then in that case…thanks Artie! You shouldn't have!!. Jim happily took the bundle and undid it.

Once again, exposed to the light of day, the silver pistol caught a shaft of sunlight from the window and gleamed in its full glory. Jim turned it over in his hands, feeling it's perfect balance and admiring it's splendor.

"Artie… this is…beautiful!! I'm speechless. Did you design this?!"

"I helped. I did design the grips. Do you like it Jim?"

"Like it? I love it!! …It's fantastic Artie! He turned it over again and read the inscription. "Artie, I don't what to say… Thank you! I'll cherish it always!"

They were both grinning now. Artemus reached out and tapped Jim's arm.

"Hey James… tell you what. I'll go melt down some gold and cook you up another gold bullet! Then you can christen it like it was supposed to be and you'll be blessed with all that long life and good luck… just like Henri promised!"

Jim looked his partner in the eye and said seriously. "That won't be necessary Artie."

"What? …Why not?"

"Because Artie," and he gazed warmly at his long time friend, "I think the first bullet worked just fine!"

Then he smiled that full dimpled grin that Artie had waited for, all those hours, on a hot July 2nd.

Fin.


End file.
